


Voluntary Custody

by dancinbutterfly



Series: Voluntary Custody [1]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Plug, Biting, Bonding, Bureaucracy, Case Management, Chefs, Collars, Consent Issues, Crack Treated Seriously, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Consent, Falling In Love, Families of Choice, Friendship, Kneeling, Knotting Dildos, M/M, Masturbation, Matchmaking, Mating, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Military Backstory, Minor Original Character(s), Musicians, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Paperwork, Purring, Reproductive Health and Safety, Rutting, Scenting, Self-Lubrication, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Sex Toys, Social Services, Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Vibrators, Worldbuilding Choices Informed by Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, mental health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-09-21 08:11:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9539225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancinbutterfly/pseuds/dancinbutterfly
Summary: Omega Custody Centers run the gamut in reputation from government-subsidized whorehouses to safe, nonjudgemental sanctuaries depending on who you ask. They're found in any city of reasonable size, they'll take in any Omega who wants their services, and they'll connect any Alpha with a clean background to one of their clients in heat.Goodnight goes to his local OCC because he's desperate and needs the solace he's heard an Omega can find there. Billy only goes out concern for a fellow Alpha friend. Needless to say, nobody expects what they find.





	1. I Had Some Dreams, They Were Clouds In My Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of an experiment. Mostly, I'm playing fast and loose with the sex and gender metaphors you can hit on in ABO, some ABO plots I've seen dabbled with but never fully explored, ABO tropes I think have been under-explored or at least not the way I want them to be, and mixing them with my social work/way-too-practical-for-fanfic background to create this insanely hot mess. I will have notes about my thought and research process at the end of each chapter as per usual but as a general rule, this fic will not contain chapter summaries or notes. It's a crack premise treated dead seriously.
> 
> I am not going to warn for the fic but Alpha/Beta/Omega stories usually come with consent issues, this one is no different. Consent will be addressed in a variety of different ways in this story but it will never go away completely based on the nature of ABO fic that involves heat/rut. Read with your own self-care in mind.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goody makes a decision about his relationships and Billy just tries to help a friend.

Omega Custody Centers have a bit of a mix reputation. Goodnight’s investigated them, in depth, and they’re actually fairly well done, especially the ones that are done in conjunction with both nonprofits and the government. The one in town is actually lovely. The Betas and Omegas who work there are friendly, warm, and compassionate and they all seem to understand, without words, the myriad of reasons an Omega goes what is basically a regulated boarding house of sorts, if you don’t count the visiting area cells.

But most people do. Most people can’t get past what they think are the origins of the OCC. For reasons Goody really does understand, people get OCCs confused with the old Omega Markets where families bought and sold their children to the highest bidders to be anything from sex slaves to beloved spouses based on the price, separated by the triangle trade slave markets only by proprietary and a few legalities restricting what an Alpha could and couldn’t do to their bought Omega, before the Dynamic Rights Amendment was passed. 

They came fifty years later, as far as Goodnight knows. He studied them in college. They popped up during the suffrage movement - Omegas and female Alphas and Betas created OCCs as a safe place for unmated Omegas to go when they didn’t have a mate, where they could have their heats in peace, where they could still have a chance at finding a partner but weren’t forced into a catch-22 choice of exposure or involuntary handing themselves over to an Alpha for ownership. The only thing they really have in common with the old Omega Markets is the display aspect that lets Alphas can come and look at the residents offering themselves. Of course, that bit is where the slur “pound” comes from for Omega Custody Centers. 

Goodnight is honestly a little surprised when Sam uses that term to when Goodnight tells him he’s going to hand himself over to the Lincoln Omega Custody Center.

“You can’t go to the pound, Goody,” Sam practically shouts. “The idea of those places is so that an Alpha can go around picking you out of a line up and then, what, pulling you out to play with and putting you back if you’re not to their specifications? That’s degrading You’re a man, not a dog. ”

“What I am is tired, Sam. Respect that.”

“And you think what? Handing yourself over to the first knothead who sees you is going to cure your exhaustion?”

“No. I don’t know?” He drags a hand over his face. “Maybe? But at least it won’t be up to me to figure it out for awhile.” 

He aches for a sip of the beer that sits on the coffee table in front of him, unopened, and the idea that it could make this better. Then he does his best to talk himself out of wanting it. He is trying not to be so destructive and that includes drinking but half a second later he caves and cracks it open. Fuck it, he thinks as he chugs down the microbrew his friend probably spent way too much money on, the OCC will help him when he goes. 

For now he’s going to just drink Sam’s beer and try not to feel guilty over being weak and pathetic. He has at least decided to do something and that’s a step. It is. 

“If that’s what you need-“

“Don’t,” Goodnight warns. “Don’t go there.” He could not go into the place with Sam Chisholm then, he can’t go there now, he won’t be able to go there in the future. The man is an excellent leader, a fantastic commanding officer and a great friend but he is not what Goody wants in an alpha. He feel wrong all the way down to his bones when Sam touches him. Sam is too open, to flexible, and he just can’t.

“It has to be better than putting yourself on sale,” Sam says plaintively. 

“It’s not like that.” Even doing what he's doing, signing up as a potential full custody client isn't about being sold. It's about putting himself out there, completely, but safely. He doesn't even know if he really wants a mate so much as he wants to _try_ at trust again, at family, at connecting with someone outside his unit in a way he can actually accomplish because time has taught him that as he is, he cannot manage. He doesn't date. He doesn't go online and flirt. He spends time with the guys, and he loves on his cat and he plays at the bar three nights a week to stay busy but he knows his limits. They're many and thanks to his damage, they're mostly interpersonal. 

So he's aware that it doesn't work for everyone. He is. And shit, maybe it won't work for him. The last person he spoke to at the OCC said that in the last year they've only had two clients go actually mate the Alpha who took them fully into their custody. But giving it a shot is at least something different. It's better than Sam and Red and Jack and Faraday looking at him sadly, like a broken thing. 

Kind of like he is right now. “No? Alphas don’t got to pay a fee to take you home?” 

“That's for Alphas who stay on site for their ruts mostly and it's about balancing the expenses cost they cost the Center. Sam-“

“This ain’t the 19th century, Goodnight.”

“Maybe I need it to be,” Goody snaps. He clicks his teeth shut before he can say anything else because Sam is staring. His dark eyes are huge and sad and Goodnight knows that he just cannot understand. 

How could he? The man’s an Alpha. He’s never had the kind of needs Goody does. 

“Goodnight,” Sam tries and flails.

“You helped me put out the fire, Sam, and I’d have died without you.” So many times he’d have died without Sam overseas. So many times they all would have died without Sam. When he got back though, that’s when he really would have died. But he’s alive now, he just hasn’t got enough on his own to actually live. “But I gotta look through the ashes myself.” He points his bottle neck and his own head at Sam in a gesture of deference. “But you gotta let me.”

“Rain ain’t nothing but wet,” Sam murmurs softly. “Okay, brother. What do you need from me?”

He beamed at his best friend and felt something settle inside him. His family had cut him off when he’d refused to suppress in college. The Ranger division he was with in the desert, they were his people and no one more than Sam. He needed his approval so much more than even realized. “You could help me pack?”

“Oh man,” Sam laughed, shaking his head. “No, Goody. Just throw everything away. Your wardrobe is terrible. No Alpha’s going to pick you if you bring your own clothes. Just stand there naked. It’ll be better than those terrible vest things you wear.”

Goody makes a wounded noise in false protest. “A three-piece suit is classic elegance, Chisholm. And what about if I come back on the weekend, or a break between heats?”

“Then don't burn them. Just lock 'em up because those things are pompous ridiculousness and you look pompous and ridiculous when you wear them.”

Sam catches the couch cushion Goodnight hurls at his head laughing. He tosses it back and begins talking about how they can sublet Goody’s apartment and how Horne would probably jump at the chance to care of his cat and suddenly, it’s real to Goody. He’s doing this. He’s going to give himself over to the Omega Custody Center for the chance at a future. It may not work but, then again, maybe it will. 

~*~*~

Billy watches Emma hand over her driver’s license with his arms folded across his chest. “Emma, are you sure-“

“Sir, unless you’re here as a potential custodian, I’m going to have to ask you to wait in the lobby,” the Omega man across the desk from Emma says firmly. He has a thin leather collar around his neck and a name tag that declares him to be Martin. “ORPPA privacy laws do not allow for Alphas who are not custodian applicants to have access to Omega Custody Center information.”

“And if I were?” Billy asks. He does not like the idea of Emma going into this alone. He’s suspicious of this whole damn process - picking a person out of a line up for sex like a dish off a buffet to take to rut. It was unnerving and a little too close to prostitution for his liking. 

“Then I’d need you to fill out the information form and give us your primary form of ID to copy. I’d need also two contacts I could reach to verify your identity before I let you leave with an Omega. Depending on what you were signing up for, I’d also need you to agree to a background check, a release of health records, a series of home visits, private interviews, and additional health screenings.” Martin waves a hand. “That stuff is usually is only for full custody though. If you’re just here for temporary custody or onsite custody, we wouldn’t need more than the basics.”

Billy stared. “You guys aren’t fucking around.”

Martin smiled at him wanly. “Everyone knows what the misconceptions are of Omega Custody Centers but the Omegas who come here are consenting adults. They have given us something close to power of attorney for their heats and their trust for the rest of the time. We’re not a brothel, we’re a shelter and a refuge. We do our level best to keep our clients safe by following state and federal guidelines.” He puts Emma’s license on the small scanner on his desk and closes it. He hits a button and light glows at it makes a copy. “This is how.”

“And it works?”

“Billy,” Emma hisses. “You are embarrassing me.”

Martin nods. “Worked for me. Worked for Anna in Accounting and Dan in Marketing and Kelly in Human Resources and Tonya and Henry and Erin and Gavin in Case Management. I’d say ninety-percent of the Omegas on staff were clients at an OCC somewhere in the country at one point.” He shrugs. “We came back because it helped us and we want to give back but I think you’ll find thats the story for most social service employees.” He gives Emma a warm smile. “We’re certainly not in it for the money.”

“I don’t reckon so,” Emma laughs, taking back her ID. “Old hat at this then?”

“Something like that.” Martin glances over at Billy. “So, you having a seat in the lobby or do you need a clipboard?”

Billy drops into the comfortable looking chair next to Emma and holds out his hand. He has no intention of taking custody of anyone or anything but hell if he is going to let his partner go into this place alone. “Give me the clipboard.”

“Of course,” Martin says, handing it over, gracing Billy with the same warm smile he gave Emma earlier. “You want to give me your ID while I give you guys the intro spiel?”

Billy sighs and fishes out his phone. He opens the case and pulls his ID out of the wallet on the inside. He hands it over and Martin nods.

“Excellent. So, Emma, Billy, welcome to the Lincoln Omega Custody Center. At the moment we’ve got thirty-two temporary and two full custody candidates. Our clients stay in the dormitory which is attached to this building but is locked at all times. Clients are allowed to come and go from the dormitories as they please when they’re not in heat but they can only enter and exit the building with a staff member regardless of the time. You will not be entering the dormitory at all, unless a temporary candidate wants to share their heat with you. If that is the case, you will only be allowed in with the monitoring of a staff member and you will only leave the heat room with the Omega in your custody.”

“Sounds more like they have custody of us,” Emma laughs, sprawling back in her chair. It’s the most relaxed she’s looked since she came off her suppressants a month ago. 

“Yes,” Martin says. “That’s the point. We want our clients to be empowered, secure, and safe during this vulnerable time. Custody is a legal term and one that does apply in some cases but the reality is that in the OCC the Omega is the one who has the power here and that’s the way we like it.”

Emma nods in approval and Billy watches her. “So how does it work?”

“Those who are on the verge of heat and are interested can spend time in the visitor area.” Martin sighs. “You’ve probably heard this place called the pound?” They both nod. “That’s the visiting area. It’s a hallway of about twenty rooms, glass walls facing outward, scent and sound permeable, with a door. If you find an Omega you’re attracted to, approach their room. Knock and introduce yourself. Be polite. If they’re interested, they may invite you in. If they don’t, move on. If you don’t move on, you will be moved.”

Billy nods. “Reasonable.”

“We think so. If you’re invited to share a heat, we’ll see what happens from there. Jenny’s going to take you from here. She’s a Beta. We like to have Betas manage the meet and greet portion so that there’s no scent confusion.”

“It’s kinda amazing,” Emma says. “You’ve thought of everything.”

“OCCs have been around for decades. There have been a lot of mistakes made. We just do our best to course correct when they happen. Are you done with that?” Martin asks, gesturing to Billy. He nods and passes back the paperwork. Martin exchanges it for his license. “Great. I’ve IMed Jenny. She’ll be here in a second. You two can get some coffee and chat while I answer these emails or I can answer any questions you might have.”

It’s a no brainer on the coffee. The stuff is terrible for Billy’s nerves but he didn’t leave the restaurant until after three last night. Or was it this morning? Saturdays were always hell in the best possible way but any caffeine he can get his hands on is a good thing, especially considering he’s let his esteemed business partner-come-best friend drag his ass out to the Omega pound at ten am on a fucking Sunday when he could be asleep. 

The coffeemaker is one of those little single-serving Keurig things that make flavored cups. He throws in the Cinnabon brand cinnamon roll one because the only other option is Boston cream donut flavor and he just, he can’t. A man has to make a line in the sand somewhere and that’s his.

Emma watches him with her arms folded over her breasts, making the fabric of her denim jacket pull at the elbows. She’s clearly amused by the way he stares at the machine like it holds the secrets of the universe. He can hear it in her voice when she asks “You okay?” even if she is managing to hold back a smile.

“I don’t know,” Billy says, glaring at the K-pod. “I don’t know. These flavors are disgusting.” Then he looks up at her because he knows what she means. “Are you really sure about this?”

“It’ll be three days. A week at the most. I’ve been needing to come off the suppressants for ages, ever since I finally got Pa’s affairs in order but with the restaurant in previews and then finally opening and then with you up for a James Beard Award, things were out of hand. But I have time now. I deserve to take this time and take care of myself.“

“I know.”

“These places have been around for almost a hundred years in America, Billy. Just because they don’t have them in Korea doesn’t mean they’re bad.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” She asks, hip checking him gently. “Because you seem freaked out.” She smiles at him. “Are you freaked out?”

“It’s like an animal shelter.”

“I really hope you wouldn’t fuck a dog, Billy. My estimation of you as a man would drop significantly.”

His coffee is done, thank fuck, so he doesn’t answer her. It is too fucking cinnamon-y and somehow too sweet even though he didn’t add sugar. It’s a nightmare in a cup but he drinks it because it’s still coffee. He needs Jenny the visiting area tour guide to get here about five minutes ago to have kept him from making this terrible decision. 

“Remind me why I’m here again?”

“Because you’re an overprotective nuisance who wouldn’t stop hassling me about my poor life choices unless I let you come along to see that I wasn’t actually going to a brothel or a-“ She pauses, more to fuck with him than for dramatic effect. “How did you put it?”

Billy glares at her. He’d been drunk at the time, which of course doesn’t stop her from holding it against him. “Sex buffet.”

She positively beams at him. “Yes. A sex buffet.”

“Sorry for being a friend, Emma. I’ll try not to care in the future.”

“Oh, don’t tease me.”

“No teases here, guys,” a voice cuts in, smooth and calm cuts in. They both turn and find themselves face to face with a beta woman who is taller than both Billy and Emma with smooth ochre skin and a wide white smile. “Billy, Emma, I’m Jenny. If you’ll follow me? It’s through here.”

Billy doesn’t stop himself from watching her ass sway in her jeans and flats as she leads them through a doorway and down a corridor until they hit an industrial metal door that loudly proclaims PRIVATE LOCC PROPERTY. DO NOT ENTER WITHOUT STAFF SUPERVISION. ALL TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED. She pulls at a lanyard around her neck and uses a swipe card and two different keys on her keyring to unlock the door. Then she steps through, holding it open to let them in after her and closing it securely behind her.

Billy doesn’t know if she says or does anything else from there because he is hit with a wave of heat pheromones so strong he is almost knocked over. Emma reaches out and puts her hand on the wall, leaning against it heavily like she’s about to fall.

God, he’s hard. He’s so fucking hard and almost…hungry’s not the right word. Food is his life so he knows hunger and that’s not this but it’s the same kind of feeling. It’s a clawing ache low in his gut that’s as much want as it is a desperate, biological craving. He’s felt this before, during his ruts but those always come on slow. He’s never been hit like this before, like lust is an actual physical need. 

Jenny is talking but it takes a minute for him to tune her back in. “As I said, it can get a little confusing and intense, all the pre-heat scents mingling together.”

“You should bottle this. You’d put beer out of business,” Emma groans. “I know a guy.”

“If you don’t think there are people out there who have been trying since the dawn of science, you haven’t read the right books,” Jenny says warmly. “But look at you two, all in control of your faculties, proving dynamicist assholes wrong about Alpha and Omega sexual impulses yet again. This is one of my favorite parts actually, because we’ve got this place full of basically concentrated heat scent and I have never seen an Alpha lose it. Not once and I’ve been at the LOCC for like eight years.” 

She doesn’t pull out a Heat Rape is Still Rape button or anything but she doesn’t need to. Billy and Emma both get her point and they both agree with her. Billy has a t-shirt with that on it from college somewhere in his closet in the boxes of things he never unpacked so he meets her smug grin with the best look of solidarity he can muster under what are truly trying conditions because yeah, he’s not losing it but fuck. Fuck this isn’t easy either. 

“Figures,” Emma agrees smiling at her, batting her lashes a little despite the way she could barely stay upright a minute before. She looks steadier now, Billy notices. He is ridiculously jealous of her composure. 

“In our experience, the best thing for an Alpha to do is just take a deep breath, wait a moment, get accustomed to pheromone exposure, and then go say hello. If there’s someone you have a connection with biologically, you’ll be drawn to them once your nose adjusts. If not, you’ll probably find someone you like just by talking. I meet with everyone who comes through here,” she pulls out her phone and fiddles with it. “Yeah, looks like everyone we’ve got with us this weekend is pretty great.” She looks down at her phone again and smiles. “Oh man, and Goody is with us again? Awesome, he wasn't here last time I was on duty. No matter who you take custody of, you’ve got to meet him before you go. He’s a trip.”

Billy tips his head at that. “A trip?” 

“Yeah. I don’t know anyone who doesn’t like Goodnight.”

“Goodnight is his name.” What the hell kind of Disney princess name was that?

“Yep. Like I said. The man’s a character.” She waves a hand down the hallway that is visible through yet another door. “You guys ready?” 

This last door is glass. Through it, Billy can see that one wall is painted painted in an intricate pattern of pastel tessellations while the other lined in the glass Martin had mentioned which reflects low yellow light from the overheads. When both of them are standing on their own, neither swaying or shaking from the scents filling the room, they give her a nod and Jenny opens leads them into the visitor’s area.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:  
> 1)If this looks like a public clinic on steroids in a world where people actually want to fund reproductive health? Then it looks right. I am in the social service profession and I swear to you, all of this? Is legit.  
> 2)If there's medical stuff involved, you have to deal with HIPPA. That means written permission for anyone to see anything. Written permission to a degree you really should look up if you dont know about privacy laws in the US. It's one of the few legislations we've done well actually. ORPPA is the stand in thats Omega specific in this verse. HIPPA is still a thing, tho!  
> 3)If there's no medical services in a social service clinic, staff still have to deal with just a metric fuckton of paperwork just to distribute services at all, not counting what they have to do for clients.  
> 4)Oh, that said, there's a reason for the client paperwork beyond "who are you why are you here!?" They need to know about numbers for their grant proposals so they can keep the doors open and so they can gauge ther success rates vs failures (again, funding).  
> 5)Safe spaces stay safe because staffers make them safe. The entrance and exit policy may seem strict but every residential facility I've ever heard of from safe houses to homeless shelters to rehabs have some form of regulation for comings and goings. I just made these extreme because of what's at stake.  
> 6)I'm on my last semester of grad school for social work. Does it show in the fic?  
> 7)Chapter title fro You're So Vain by Carly Simon.  
> 


	2. I've Been Waiting So Long To Be Where I'm Going

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goody's been having heats for more than half his life. He has never felt anything like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so pleased that, literally, any of you are willing to try this. 
> 
> This chapter and the next one are going to be shorter. Then chapter 4 is going to be longer. The chapter count went up because its clearly going to take me longer to put them where I want them than I thought. 
> 
> Love and thanks to the M7 Skype group. You girls keep me alive. Also to Nev for literally everything all the time.

Goody can’t focus on his book. It’s a good one, the Hugo Award winner for Best Novel by a woman whose books he’d enjoyed quite a lot in the past but he isn’t particularly surprised. He’s on the first day of his heat after all. The aching emptiness inside him and creeping spread of slickness between his cheeks are making him restless. Honestly, how is a person supposed to focus when their mind is constantly flashing with images from past encounters and fantasy fucking? They’re not. Simple as that. 

He doesn’t throw the book across the room, because he respects the written word and the published page thank you very much, but he is sorely tempted. He does drop it on the small table his room in the visiting area provides and gets off the couch. The only other item is the room is a TV, which he hasn't used so far this time. He likes to be able to hear the comings and goings, the soft hum of other people talking, the soft sounds a couple make when they find a connection and just. Can't. Wait. That’s why the visiting area rooms have couches instead of single occupant chairs, Goody is certain.

Pacing does nothing to ease his high-strung body if anything, it only makes things more uncomfortable. So Goody stretches out into a reclining position on his own couch and considers turning on the TV. He couldn’t focus on watching anything but they do have all those cable music channels, the ones that are just black screens and endless songs. He could probably handle that, he thinks as he props his bare feet up on the far arm rest and fishes for the remote between the cushions beneath him.

He finds something lazy and slightly psychedelic on one of the oldies channels. It’s all deep base lines and heavy drum beats that hit him in the chest and then lower. He spends all of Sunshine of Your Love trying to drift and it works about as well as a screen door on submarine. He’s contemplating trying something else as Locomotive Breath starts but the singer only gets to how the poor man in the song found his woman and his best friend in bed and having fun when the scent hits his nose and the world fades out.

After more than twenty years of heats, Goody can honestly say he’s never felt anything like this. It reminds him of the standing waist deep in Gulf of Mexico, of the green-blue waves crashed over his body in a way that was unstoppable and irresistible but not at all unpleasant.The power of need and want and aching hunger the scent stirred in him was one of those waves. When its hit him again, he closes his eyes and holds as still as he can, reveling in the way his skin prickles, his muscles grow heavy, and his hole clenches around the hollowness inside and leaks in an effort to ready that emptiness to be filled. If he doesn’t move, he can just drift in the pleasure of anticipation without setting off an unsatisfying orgasm that will only leaving him wanting more.

That plan works for about a minute and a half because the scent gets stronger, closer. He’s on his feet without thinking, functioning on instinct because the smell is an Alpha. He doesn’t know who they are or what they look like or what their primary gender is but that if they say the word, he’s theirs. He presses both palms and his forehead against the scent permeable glass and inhales deeply as the scent gets closer and closer. He can hear voices as well, Jenny from Case Management and then two others, a male and a female, one of them the most compatible Alphas he’s ever encountered, a biochemical match made in heaven. 

Goody can feel his knees itching to give out, to sink onto the thick carpet and wait on the ground for whoever is coming to mate. He’s never done that before, submitted before an encounter, but his instincts are screaming at him to go down so he does. He goes slower than most might because he’s not as young as he used to be and his time in the Sandbox has done him no favors but he manages to lower himself into a careful kneel. 

He’s on the ground for all of thirty seconds when a pair of worn blue Docs come into his line of vision and he’s choked with the Alpha’s scent, so thick he feels positively high.

He hears a soft “Oh” from up above and plants a hand on the glass before tipping his eyes up. And “oh” is right. The Alpha is beautiful with a strong lean frame that Goody follows up from the boots, over dark blue jeans that hug his calfs and thighs and mold perfectly around the shadow of his cock, up to a narrow waist and a broad chest. He traces the long line of the Alpha’s neck with his eyes and then finds himself staring, gobsmacked, at the man’s fine, sharp features and the dark fall of his long, straight hair from the bun he has it pulled back into on top of his head. 

“I was waiting,” Goody says and immediately feels like an idiot but it’s true. He did. This will be his sixth heat cycle at the center, just shy of two years, and no Alpha who has come through the visiting area has made him like this. For that matter, no Alpha he’s ever encountered in the world at large has ever made him feel like this over the entire course of his life. So yes, it is embarrassing but it’s true. He had been waiting, it feels like forever, for this feeling, this Alpha. 

“Oh?” the Alpha Goody wants to be devoured by says again, only it’s a question this time.

“For this,” Goody says. A low purr rumbles around in his chest involuntarily and he delights in it. He’s never been able to purr before. He has always been jealous of Omegas who did purr often, fully realized in their dynamic. He’d never triggered before. It makes his body feel good, amplifying and soothing the ache for his Alpha at the same time. 

“This,” the Alpha echoes. “This feeling? Fuck.” The Alpha drops his forehead to the glass and stares down at him, resting his own palm beside his head in a mirror of Goodnight’s position. “Like I might die if I don’t fuck you?” His fingertips press into the glass too, pale and frantic. “Like I might might die if I do?”

“Yes,” he breaths, turning his head to the right and tilting his head back so that his throat was exposed to the view from above. “That.”

The Alpha’s dark eyes go a little wider. “I didn’t know it was a thing to wait for.”

“Thats because most good Omegas stay home when they’re in heat but it is. Thats when we can find if someone is…” Goody tilts his head to the other side, inhaling deeply, throat still exposed. This Alpha smells like berries and warm smoke and soft sheets and hot sex. “Right.”

“I’m right for you?”

Goody returns his posture to normal and shakes his head. “No guarantee. No one’s perfect but we could fit, if we wanted to.” He peers up at this Alpha. “If you let me, I can be good for you. Goodnight Robicheaux is my name and I want us to fit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes(short this time):  
> 1)The book Goody is reading is The Fifth Season by N.K. Jemisin who won the 2016 Hugo Award for Best Novel. I haven't read it but its on my list and I want women of color writers represented whenever I can, especially sci-fi writers.  
> 2)Chapter title is a lyric from Sunshine of Your Love by Cream.  
> 3)Locomotive Breath is by the best rock group ever to feature a flautist as a leading instrument Jethro Tull.  
> 4)Louisiana is on the Gulf of Mexico. I grew up on the coast(~3ish hours east) and I report from experience.


	3. He's Crawling Down the Corridor On His Hands and Knees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Alphas follow their noses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some repeated dialogue. I think you'll like it anyway. :D

Billy tends to orient his sense of smell more towards his cooking than other people but the minute Jenny opened the door to the visitor’s area, he was plunged into a scent so fucking intoxicating, it might as well have been a siren singing at the other end of the corridor. The only reason Billy hadn’t taken off running down the fucking hall the moment they got in there was Emma. 

Yeah, she got a head start on him, taking off before he could even stop being blown over by the impact. He follows after her while Jenny laughs at them at a leisurely stroll. 

Billy skids to a stop next to Emma in front of room with a terribly perfect looking young man on the other side of the glass. He was staring at Emma with huge bright eyes that looked ready to break. “Hey, Emma-“

“I’m Matthew,” the man says, sounding drunk and delighted and a little frantic. “You are- Are you- You’re an Alpha right?”

“Yeah. I’m looking for an Omega. You know? I, un, things have been difficult so- I’m starting rut again.”

“Do you want me?” Matthew asks, almost pathetic in his desperation. “Emma, do you want me?”

Emma is grinning at him. “God, yes.”

Billy watches the man cast his eyes around frantically only to go suddenly limp with relief. “Jenny, hey. Can you let Emma in, please?” He is a bright shade of pink under his dark bangs. “I’ve never been compatible before.”

“Yeah sure. Hang on.” She’s back at the keys on her lanyard, turning it in a hole in the wall Billy hadn’t even noticed and holding out a hand. “All right, you guys. I’ll contact Dorm Staff and have them come get you if decide you want to do partial custody. Ms. Cullen, keep in mind, we do have security camera rollings and any non-consensual contact will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law as both an assault and a breach of the contract you signed.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Emma mumbles and licks her lips. Billy watches Matthew fumble for the door and throw it open. Emma darts inside a minute later and her hands land on his hips, pulling him against her so smoothly it could have been rehearsed. Her head tipped back, her nose nestling in the side of his neck and Billy watched them both exhale as one. 

It suddenly felt incredibly intrusive to be watching them even as he could feel himself being pulled to do the same to…someone… a few dozen feet away. So he forces himself to turn his back to the glass wall of the room where his partner and her Omega were touching every inch of skin they could reach not covered by clothing.

“Erin’s on her way,” Jenny says softly coming up beside him. “She’ll get them sorted out, figure out if your friend is staying for Matthew’s heat or not. Would you like me to take you back to the front now and-“

“No,” Billy grits out, turning to look down the corridor and feeling like a grade A asshole for the way he’d behaved about this whole thing earlier. “We should keep going that way.”

Jenny grins at him. “Alright. After you.”

Billy does not run this time either. He just walks quickly, with purpose. Jenny is laughing at him too, but he could give less than a shit.

The pull is overwhelming but Billy wouldn’t say he’s powerless. He could turn around and walk out right now. He could ask Jenny to escort him out and once he got on the other side of the doors, this feeling would be gone. But why would he? Why would he ever do that when his entire universe has narrowed to this scent and the promise of completing the picture for his other four senses is right there.

He’s not prepared for what he finds, at all. He was thinking he would find a scene like out of all the other visiting area rooms, with an Omegas hanging out on the couch watching TV or screwing around on their phone. He finds a Omega man in his late thirties kneeling in a supplicant position of archaic Omega submission so perfect it could have come out of a Renaissance painting. 

His hair is tawny and his eyelashes are thick and dark against his pale skin, his eyes cast down at the floor at Billy’s feet. His face is all sharp chin, heavy brow, and aggressive cheekbones. He’s in what looks to be a faded Army T-shirt and a pair of soft cotton sleep pants and his soles of his bare feet are turned up behind him, their exposure a strange display of vulnerability that makes Billy want to take him apart and put him back together one piece at a time until there’s nothing left but skin and sweat and come separating them. 

God, Billy wants this man. He wants to put him on his knees and mount him from behind. He wants to put him on his back and break him open while he watches his face twist in pleasure. He wants to tongue out the slick from inside his hole until he’s all Billy can taste and smell and feel. He wants to knot deep in him and hold him down and keep him close.

“I was waiting,” the Omega says like the words have been ripped out of his chest and Billy has no idea how to respond to that, to him. He doesn’t know what he means and his every breath feels lost as he drowns in this man who he hasn’t even touched yet.

“For this,” the Omega says, answering the question Billy never managed to ask.

“This?” He’s confused for a moment and then the look of his own need reflected in the Omega’s eyes, blue-green, like coastal water, hit him in the chest full force. “This feeling? Fuck.” The overwhelming force of it hit him like a wave, a wave the color of this man’s eyes. His head is too heavy for him to hold up anymore and he drops it against the glass, bringing his hand up to press against the cold plane separating them as if that would somehow make it disappear, bring them together. “Like I might die if I don’t fuck you? Like I might might die if I do?”

The Omega actually bares his goddamn throat when he responds, his voice a rumbling acknowledgement of the connection that pulsed between them. His neck is pale and long and Billy can practically see his blood pulsing blue and alive below his skin. It’s a gilded invitation Billy wants to consume and he hadn’t even realized he’d wanted before now. “I didn’t know it was a thing to wait for.”

The Omega, the one on the ground _for him_ , kneeling _for him_ , gives him a look that is almost amused and and says “Thats because most good Omegas stay home when they’re in heat but it is. Thats when we can find if someone is…right.” When he pauses, he bares the other side of his neck. It’s just as perfect and would fit just as beautifully between his teeth. 

Billy’s heard about compatibility. Everyone has. It’s human biology and basically sex ed 101. The draw between people who are bond-compatible intensifies during a heat or a rut, turning into the kind of lure that ancient myths and ugly incidents are made of. It’s the reason there’s such rigid rules about heat and rut selections being made before the big event in most cultures. He’d heard of it, even talked to people who were compatible with t heir partners and heard stories of how intense mating cycles were, but Billy hadn’t thought that wold ever matter. He wasn’t due for a rut for another month and just like the Omega said, he stayed in when he had them, with or without a partner.

The realization that the connection was real, that it could be so damn big is staggering. It makes the offer the Omega is making with his body a little terrifying. “I’m right for you?”

“No guarantee,” the Omega says, shaking his head. “No one’s perfect but we could fit, if we wanted to. If you let me, I can be good for you. Goodnight Robicheaux is my name and I want us to fit.”

Goodnight. The Disney Princess guy that Jenny had told him about. Figures, Billy thinks to himself, finding himself smiling helplessly.

“I’m Byeong-Rok Song,” he replies, startling himself. He never gives white people his given name. The ones who bother to try pronouncing it fuck it up, most of them don’t try, and it’s not who he’s become, really. Billy Rocks is the name that built a restaurant, a reputation, a career, a life. Billy is who he thinks of himself as most of the time, not Byeong-Rok. He had wanted to give it to Goodnight any. He wants to give anything he can to Goodnight. “Call me Billy.”

“Goody and God, Billy, it’s my absolute pleasure to meet you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:  
> 1)Billy's name. I went looking for a name that could become "Billy Rocks" and found this. I have it on good authority from a friend living and working in South Korea that this is a name that could possibly exist for a Korean man today. Normally, surname goes first with Korean names but since Billy is introducing himself to an Anglo person, I figured he'd do it the way we do it in the West but his name would actually be Song Byeong-Rok like how Lee Byung-Hun is credited Byung-Hun Lee in Mag 7 because it's a Western movie. I am not Korean nor do I claim to be so if I got the naming conventions wrong, my total apologies but I did try to be as accurate as I could be and fit him. Hope that's okay.   
> 2)Title from Locomotive Breath by Jethro Tull. She knows why.


	4. Breathe, Breathe in the Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jenny opens the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was like pulling teeth but I am really happy with how it turned out. 
> 
> Warning: There is unsafe sex in this chapter. I do not condone it, like EVER, but for the purposes of this fic, it needs to be there. If you find that problematic, feel free to skip it :D
> 
> Thanks as always to the Mag7 Skype crew. You girls make this shit fun. And always always to Nev, for everything.

Billy is the most stunning person Goody has ever seen. He wants to feel his Alpha canines drop and sink into his neck and not let go until there’s nothing left in his mind but satisfaction and pleasure. He wants his long, graceful hands all over his skin. He wants, wants, _wants_.

“I didn’t come here for this,” Billy says and he sounds stunned. “I don’t-“ Even frowning he is beautiful. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Put your hands on me.”

His other hand joins its brother on the glass. The palms are square and strong-looking. Goody needs to feel them on him cupping his face or pushing apart his thighs. He wants to lick and bite his long, articulate fingers. Goody wants to eat out of those hands and fuck into them and, god, he doesn't know, anything. He wants anything, so long as he can pry Billy's hands off the window and get them where he needs them. Jesus. He's dizzy on the suffocating lust with a wall still between them and he can't think.

Billy doesn't seem like he can either. “Fuck.”

“Yes,” Goody purrs. His chest is vibrating and he feels like he’s floating. “Yes. Fuck me.”

Fog appears on the glass in front of Billy’s mouth as the breath punches out of him. Goody wants to feel it on his skin. He needs to know if the air from Billy's lungs will cling to the hair on his skin like dew on the grass in cloudy mornings or if it will be gone moments after contact. Jesus wept.

“You want that too?” He asks, feeling just as breathless as Billy looks. “Want to get your cock in me? I’m so wet, cher. Been dripping all day but I’m goddamn river for you. Want you in me, want your knot and your teeth.” He closes his eyes against the very idea. “Billy, do you want that?”

“Yes,” Billy chokes out. “Goody. Please. Can I come in?”

Oh. Right. Goody had forgotten that part. He glances at the door to his left, locked from the outside, unlike the one behind him that opens into the dormitories. He frowns, trying to focus, and casts his gaze back to Billy’s hungry eyes and nodding. “Please. Please come in, Billy.” 

Behind him, Goody finally notices a smiling Jenny, who he has to ask because this is about him. He came here for full custody but to get it, he must fully consent, ask her as a case manager as much as he asks Billy as an Alpha. 

He licks his lips, realizing suddenly that they are dry and clearing his throat. He does have some dignity left and he will not let his voice waver. “Darling, would you please let him in?”

She beams at him, her eyes crinkling in charmingly at the corners.“Of course, Goody. I’m so happy for you, sweetie.” 

He hears the click of a key in a lock and, distantly, Jenny warning Billy about security and legal protocol. Then the door is finally opening and Billy Rocks, his Alpha, is inside the room with him, flooding the space with his scent and close enough to touch. 

“Holy shit,” Billy gasps, stumbling when he gets inside. “God, is that you?” Goody tilts his head in question. “The scent.”

“I thought it was you.”

“That’s us then,” Billy says, a little breathless, a lot shocked. “And you’re still on your knees for me. That’s so good. God.” 

He crosses the space between them in two long strides and on the third he is so close that his leg is touching Goody’s shoulder. Contact, even such a small amount separated by clothing, like being electrocuted with pure lust. A pulse of lubrication forces it’s way out of his body in response, leaking through his boxers. It makes his skin damp and the air heavy and Billy’s hand reaches out and combs through his hair in response to the change in the room.

“Yes,” he hisses through clenched teeth because he wants this almost as much as he wants to be stretched and filled. He wants to be taken care of, to belong. He leans into the touch like a happy puppy.

“You’re purring,” Billy whispers, fist tightening in his hair and holding him still. 

The grip doesn’t hurt, just restrains, before he pulls him closer, until his cheek is resting against Billy’s hip. It feels sexy. It feels _safe_. Goody likes it so much his entire body vibrates with it. 

“You’re purring _for me_.”

Goody tries to nod but he can’t with Billy holding him hostage by the roots. “Yes, Alpha.”

Another gut-punched sound erupts from Billy.

“Alpha?” He blinks up at him as best he can without moving his head. “Billy?”

“You can’t call me that.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m this close,” he grits out. “This close to pushing you back on the carpet and taking you right here. Jesus, Goody.”

“That sounds divine,” Goody sighs. His body is keyed up, ready for action but he feels almost drowsy somehow, like he could close his eyes and sleep for days at the same time. It’s the most relaxed his been since before he joined the Army at eighteen, maybe since he presented at thirteen. Jesus.

“You want that?”

“I want to be yours,” Goody says and it doesn’t feel like the confession it probably should. “Take me here. Take me in a heat me room. Take me over your kitchen table and on your living room couch and under the sheets in your bed. Billy, I want to put myself in your hands.”

Billy’s eyes study his face with more care and critique that Goody could have managed in this moment. Then he says “You’re one of the fully custody Omegas.”

Goody nods and says a quick prayer to a god he stopped believing in when the first young man bled out in his arms crying in his arms for his mom to help, please, please, help, he was scared, he didn’t want to die. Please, he begs the universe, please don’t let that turn this man from me. 

“That’s…that’s a lot.”

“It is,” Goody agrees, so relieved he could cry because that response isn’t a no. “But you could try before you buy.”

Billy laughs at that, his eyes almost squeezing shut as he bends over a little. The noise comes from deep in his chest, rich and sincere. Oh, Goody thinks as he looks at his narrowed eyes and wide mouth, I am so very fucked.

“Try everything at the sex buffet before I make myself a plate?”

This time Goody is the one who laughs. “Maybe not,” he backpedals. “If you’re asking if I’d let you eat me alive, my dear, the answer is of course.” 

Billy smiles at him and lifts his hand to cup Goody’s cheek. His heat is demanding, loud and violent just beneath the surface of his control, making him crave being fucked full to bursting but honestly? If this gentle touch coupled with the firm grip on his hair is all he gets from Billy now, he could be content with it. He really could. It’s a marvel.

“I don’t know anything about full custody,” Billy admits. He’s running his thumb over Goody’s cheekbone now, the repetition soothing and soft. “I came for a friend.”

“It means you take me home. The Center checks on us, and if I like being kept and you like having me, then you keep me.” The urge to turn his head and kiss Billy’s palm is strong but his Alpha’s hold on his hair is stronger. The lack of control, of choice, is better than any whiskey he’s ever had at blurring his edges and clouding his thoughts. “No guarantees.”

“But we could fit,” Billy finishes for him. “Right. Do I need to go…” He trails off and his hand drops from Goody’s cheek to the back of his neck where he clings instead of pets now. “There was a lot of questions. Paperwork.”

“No paperwork here, chéri. Just you and me and the floor. Maybe the couch if you like?” He wiggles his eyes playfully because heat sex can be playful if it’s with the right person, and oh Lord, he wants Billy to be the right person.

“I’d like what you like.”

“I’d like you to choose, Alpha.”

Billy licks his gorgeous lips once, then twice. When he smiles again, his canines have dropped into the fangs that only come out before or during a mating. Goody can feel his hole clench in response to the sight. He doesn’t know if the sight of this man’s naked body could be hotter than that. He can’t wait to find out.

“Want you comfortable.” His fingers knead the muscles in the back of Goody’s neck. 

A caretaker. He really Is fucked. “Yes Alpha. Do you-” He trails off, suddenly shy. Does Billy want him naked or does he just want to pull his pants down and fuck him fully-clothed? Does he want his mouth first? It’s been half a decade since he’s been fucked, at least fifteen years since he shared a heat. He can’t remember how to offer himself anymore and he misses the boy he used to be, the one who could ask for what he wanted with clarity and force. He was still inside Goody, somewhere, but right now he was lost. He had been for a long time. The best the shadow of himself can manage is, “What do you want?”

Billy looks uncertain. It’s not what Goody was expecting. Alphas, in his experience, take what they want during sex. Consensual, of course, delicious, and oh so satisfying but not particularly open to requests. When he wants something specific, he’s sought out betas as lovers and once or twice, a fellow omega.

“I want to know how you want me,” Goody offers. 

Billy’s eyes go dark at that and he licks his lips. Goody wants to taste his mouth, feel that tongue on his own and over his teeth, against his palette. 

“Knees on the floor, chest on the couch,” he says hoarsely. 

Goody’s eyes drift shut involuntarily and a moan slips free at the very thought. He wants to move but he doesn’t want Billy to let go. Words seem a little too difficult in that moment though, so he lifts a shaking hand and covers the hand on his neck with his own and presses as he starts to move, dropping it back to his side when the pressure of Billy’s grip increases. 

He crawls on his knees to the couch with Billy still holding him by the nape. When he gets to the couch, his thighs and hips pressed against the front he stops and waits. It takes a few seconds but then Billy gets it, really gets it, and shoves him down. Goody’s cock is so hard he’s blind with it. “Fuck, yes.”

“I need to see you.”

“Fuck me. Fuck me, Billy, please.”

“Let me look first,” Billy says gently. “I want to see.”

Goody whimpers, soft and high but he hopes his permission comes through. When Billy releases his neck and moves behind him, hooking his fingers in the waistband of his pajama pants and underwear and them down to his knees, Goody knows he’s been understood. That feels almost as good as the contact itself. 

Calloused palms tap the inside of his thighs his left then his right, a silent request and Goody obeys, spreading his legs as best he can with his knees restrained by his pants. He doesn’t know if it’s enough for Billy to see so he reaches back with both hands and pulls his cheeks apart.

“Holy shit,” Billy breathes. A heartbeat later, two of his fingers are touching his soaking hole, just resting there with the gentlest pressure.

“More?” He can’t get enough air like this, with his chest holding all his weight on the couch. “Alpha, more.”

The pressure on his entrance increases just the slightest bit and that’s all it takes. He’s fucking drenched and his body is making lube as fast as it can so that he swallows Billy’s fingers into his channel so quick and deep that Goody can’t help shouting in shock and pleasure.

Billy’s fingers twist and thrust until he writhes but doesn’t touch him anywhere else. A rumbling growl from deep in his chest rolls over Goody, the Alpha equivalent of the Omega purr, making his muscles clench and his cock ache.

“Fuck.”

“Yes,” Goody hisses through clenched teeth. “Yes, please fuck me.”

Instead of replacing his dexterous fingers with his cock or at the very least adding more, that makes his Alpha freeze. No. He whines in the back of his throat, high and pathetic and completely unashamed. Billy’s hand slides under his shirt to rub his lower back and he says “I know. I just don’t have any-“

“It’s okay,” Goody groans. “The OCC provides clients a variety of medication including prophylactics. It’s safe.”

“You trust me?”

He really shouldn’t. He doesn’t know this man from Adam. He could have any number of diseases. All he’d need to do would be to send Billy across the room to get an Alpha condom out of the drawer of the TV stand but he’s on birth control. Goody doesn’t think he can deny himself his Alpha’s come if he doesn’t have to. 

He nods so hard his neck might snap and makes a noise that was supposed to be a “yes” but didn’t come out like any word at all.

“Okay, Goody.” Then Billy stretches over his back and kisses the side of his neck, just beneath his ear. His hands cover Goody’s and spread him open even wider, grinding his jean-covered cock against his vulnerable hole.

Goody’s muscles go limp, his arms dropping from his ass to his sides as he sags into the sofa. He is body is singing with pleasure. More intense is the relief he feels, so much that he’s almost high because this is going to happen. He’s going to be taken, and used, and fucked and filled up until he’s dripping slick and seed and, thank God. Just.

“Thank fucking God.”

“That good?” Billy laughs. “I haven’t even done anything yet.”

“And yet, you’re already killing me.”

Billy laughs again and God, Goody likes that. He likes listening to him laugh almost as he likes being the one to make him laugh. He flushes hot at the power, at the knowledge that he still had the spark to get what he wanted with his charm and charisma and he shivers, his purr deepening to a rumble that could match Billy’s growl.

Billy pulls back at that and looks at him, down at where he’s pulled wide and waiting, just like he’d said he wanted. “You’re so gorgeous,” he breathes. “Jesus.”

“Goody,” he corrects, grinding his ass back against Billy’s denim-covered cock has much as hie can in Billy’s grip. 

“Oh my god,” Billy groans into his ear, even as he rolls his hips forward. The sensation is rough against his sensitive opening and he digs his fingers into the couch. “ You’re one of those.”

“Probably.”

That makes Billy laugh some more and he bends down to press a quick kiss on his cheek in response. It’s so sweet and innocent in comparison to the heated lust coursing through them that it makes Goody’s spine turn liquid and his heart skip about six beats. 

He’s done. He really is. That is the last goddamn straw.

“You better get in me now or I’ll scream.”

“That could be taken wrong.”

“Then you’d best avoid it by taking action.”

“Don’t wanna take my hands off you,” Billy admits, a confession which makes Goody absolutely preen. He’s wanted, wanted so bad that even the few seconds it would take for his new Alpha to unzip feel like too much for the man. Of course, that knowledge does nothing to make Goody less of a greedy slut for his cock so he grinds against Billy, hard this time, and reaches back the gap the back of Billy of his neck and hold his mouth close to his skin. 

“Stay close like this, then.” He grits out. The warmth of Billy’s firm chest pressed against his back isn’t as good as skin contact but it’s solid and heavy and anchoring. Billy doesn’t answer with words, just attaches his mouth to the junction of Goody’s jaw before letting go of his hips. 

The sound of metal teeth parting isn’t audible over the music, Pink Floyd now, something off Dark Side of the Moon. Goody is too distracted by Billy’s mouth to try and figure out which track. All he knows is that it’s making it so he can’t keep up with whats going on behind him.

Then again, not knowing might be for the best. When Billy fills him, he slides in smooth, steady, and completely unexpected. It knocks all the air from Goody’s lungs and thoughts from his brain because finally. Oh god, finally. He’s not empty anymore and he’s never been more relieved and keyed up at the same time in his life. 

“You’re dripping,” Billy breathes in his ear. “So hot. So tight. Oh, Goody.”

“Yes.” He pushes back again but this time is rewarded with that big Alpha cock spearing him open wide. It’s not the longest he’s ever had, but jesus, it’s thick. It’s stretching his hole so wide and that’s not even the knot. This man is going to ruin him and Goody can’t wait. “Yes, fuck me please.”

Billy doesn’t respond with words. Instead he puts his hands back on Goody’s ass, thumbs digging into the flesh as he hammers out a rhythm that has Goody jolting with pleasure so intense he thinks he might go blind. 

The push-pull of Billy’s dick inside him stokes fire of his heat from a gentle crackle to a full-on forest fire. He’s being immolated, burned alive by the force of his need and the fucking pushing him through that greedy desire into pleasure and pliancy. 

He doesn’t really know how he can still want so much when he’s getting everything but he does. He wants Billy. Wants all of him. Wants it so much that it hurts, it aches but he’s boneless now, lmp and overwhelmed and out of his head. He doesn’t realize he’s begging until Billy answers him. 

“I got you, Goody. I’m not stopping. It’s okay, Goody, breathe, I got you.”

“Knot me?” he manages, too out of his mind to even be surprised that all of his eloquence has escaped him. “Can you?”

“A little more,” he groans Then Billy kisses the back of his neck, his shoulder through his shirt, the top of his spine, in his hair at the base of his skull. It should be soothing but it only fans the blaze in him. He’s stretched and stuffed but it’s not enough. It’s not e-fucking-nough.

“I— I— Billy, please.” Tears are building in his eyes and he is so goddamn desperate. “Please. Alpha, please. Please knot me.” He chokes and it comes out a sob, broken like him, shattered and begging to be put back together. “Fucking breed me, please.”

Billy lets out a growl that’s almost a roar and thrusts in hard and then locks, stretching his hole so wide that his eyes roll back and the tears leak down his cheek with the bliss and release. Spasm rack his whole body as he shudders in orgasm and peace settles over his body as sags into the couch. 

He mumbles “thank you” into the soft fuzzy fabric of the cushions over and over, hot and heaving for breath as Billy peppers every inch of skin he can reach with kisses.

Bound to this Alpha, half lying and half kneeling, Goody knows that all the waiting and the hopeing and the risk and the pain of putting himself out on display here at the OCC again and again was worth it. It was all fucking worth it because after what feels like forever, he can feels like he can finally breathe again. Another thank you escapes his lips before Billy’s hand covers his and laces their fingers together.

Yeah. So damn worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:  
> 1)Let's just assume that the OCC provides really great hormonal birth control to all it's Omega clients.  
> 2)Let's also assume they get pay for that hormonal birth control from private grants so that no matter what happens w/politics they dont lose funding for it. Because that's how it actually works in the NGO world yall. *sigh* Trying to help people is a hot mess, yall. It's ridiculous.


	5. Talk Like An Open Book, Sign Me Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy gets a wake up call, a reality check, and a stack of paperwork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This semester is a nightmare. I'm going to play in this universe instead - where I get to do social work instead of sitting on my ass and going nowhere fast with a ticking clock running out. Enjoy.
> 
> Thanks to the Skype crew and always to Nev. <3

Goody talked so much when they met and when they were fucking Billy expected him to carry on chatting once they were tied. He is surprised to find that the only sound Goody makes in the aftermath, when his knot is locked deep inside that velvet Omega heat, is a purr that vibrates from beneath his rib cage and an occasional wordless whimper of pleasure every time Billy moves even a millimeter.

And alright, he could move less. He could hold perfectly still if he really wanted to but Goody just sounds so hot when he whimpers. 

Still. The silence is a shock. So despite the fact that Billy really doesn’t know this man that well, he knows him well enough to know that quiet is not a word that can be used to describe Goody.

“Are you all right?”

Goody responds with a grunt. It makes Billy even less confident. 

“Goody. Talk to me.”

“No. Shhh.” He reaches back and pats Billy’s face with his open palm and shushes him again. 

“Is that a yes?”

That earns him another “shhh” but when Goody’s hand falls, it lands on his neck. His other hand, the one with fingers laced with Billy’s own, gives a gentle squeeze. So Billy lets it lie and noses at the Goody’s hair as he waits for his knot to go down. 

He’s never felt anything like this before. The pleasure of their mating (because honestly what else could he call what they just did) was mind-destroying. The intimacy of the moment they are sharing now is so easy and comfortable it’s terrifying.

That’s probably why he’s so relieved when someone knocks on the opaque door, the one the exact opposite side of the permeable glass he’d first seen Goody through. Goody groans and turns away from it, mumbling something that sounds like “fuck off” and Billy finds himself chuckling despite himself. He’s known Goody for about an hour and already he’s done that to him about half a dozen times. God, Billy really likes it. Nobody’s ever made him laugh that much that fast, not even Emma. 

“They’re probably worrying about you,” Billy whispers. He’d have to be an idiot not to notice how fond Jenny was of Goodnight. Besides, a full custody Omega wouldn’t be left alone with a strange Alpha. He’d seen enough Shonda Rhimes dramas to know that. 

Yes, he watched prime time soaps. Emma had gotten him addicted when he in culinary school and he never managed to kick the habit. 

There was another knock, more insistent this time, and a voice accompanied it. “Gentlemen? This is Jake. I’m one of the case managers here. I’m just checking in but we’d like to move you to one of the heat rooms if it all possible. How are you doing?” 

Now it was Billy’s turn to groan. The OCC staff was there to help. He knew that. But. Fuck. Goody was still so hot and tight around him.He didn’t want anyone to see Goody like this. It was private; it was theirs. 

“What do you want to do?” Billy asks softly. Beneath him, Goody shrugs, still quiet and that’s enough to decide for him really because Goody should not be quiet. He knows it in his bones.

“We’re not decent but come in I guess.”

“Nothing I haven’t seen and done, fellas. Don’t stress.” Jake calls. “I’m coming in. Alright?”

Billy nods even though Jake can’t see him. “Yeah.”

The door creaks open and Billy turns his head on Goody’s shoulder to look at the other Omega. He was about their age, late thirties, and a brunet with the shadow of a slightly darker brown beard. Broad across the shoulders and at the span of his waist, he had strong sturdy body that was padded with a softness around his chest and hips - the ideal of male Omega health and beauty. Billy might have been attracted to Jake, before he found Goody. Now though, he can’t imagine wanting to touch any body but the one beneath him right now. 

Jake smiles at them, fondly, and moves across the room to sit on the couch, far enough away that he’s not touching them. However from where he’s seated now, he can look down and clearly see Goody’s face. 

“Heya, Goodnight. How are you, bud?”

Goody makes another of those little noises and Jake clicks his tongue. “Nuh-uh. You’re seriously going to go non-verbal. You? Of all people? You, who once spent two hours holding court about how weather patterns are a metaphor for the inevitability of social collapse of all political systems. Really.”

“He fucked my brain out,” Goody says directly into the couch. “Don’t judge a man’s stride until you’ve walked a mile in his shoes.”

“That’s my guy. Come on, now. You know you two can’t stay here now. You’re scenting up the entire visiting area. Seriously, its like someone dropped aerosol ecstasy in the hallway.” He grins down at Goody. “How close do you think you are?”

“Ten minutes?” Billy offers. Maybe less because Jake sitting there, chatting like this, was a massive hard-on killer. 

“Okay. Now this is important.” Jake steeples his fingers. “Are you both going to be okay being separated for a little bit? Goody I know you’ve talked to staff about how this would go, but it’s a little different when you’re in the moment. If you can’t, then we can wait a little while.” He lifts his gaze and meets Billy’s eyes then. “We have a different protocol when a full custody Omega finds a compatible partner. We like to have a chat with both parties separately before we take you to the heat room but that’s not always possible.” He drops his hands, shrugs and smiles. “Needs must, you know? The client comes first.”

“Damn right I did.”

Jake chokes out a laugh that is too loud for the small room. Billy snorts but he’s softening. He’s going to be able to pull out soon. Less than ten minutes. Less than five maybe. He’s already dreading it. Or maybe what he’s really dreading is being apart from Goody, even by a few rooms and that’s fucking scary too, scary enough to deflate the last of his erection. 

He pulls out quick and careful, pulling Goody’s pants back up over his hips before tucking himself away. He sits back on his heels and watches as Goody flips himself over onto his back. He’s still a loose-limbed puddle but at least now Billy can see his face. It’s a ridiculous comfort because Goody is sloe-eyed and droopy with contentedness.

“We’ll let you collect yourself, Goody.” Jake says warmly. “I’m going to borrow your Alpha for a few minutes. I’ll deliver him directly to your heat room when we’re done with him okay?”

Billy watches, rapt, as Goody bites his on his lower lip. It’s bright pink from where he must have been digging his teeth into it while they fucked. This is hesitance though and he gives Goody what he hopes is a reassuring look and a squeeze to his cloth covered shin that conveys that he’ll be back because he will. He can’t walk away now.

“Yeah,” Goody says on a shaky sigh. “Okay.” 

“Great. Gavin’s going to swing by in a minute and get you settled. Billy was it? If you’ll come with me?” He rises from the couch and makes his way to the door in the opaque wall. 

Billy is loathe to get off his knees, to pull himself away from Goody. He wants to stay. Every instinct is screaming at him to stay, to pull his Omega into his arms and not let go again, not ever, but he’s not an animal. Instead, Billy leans forward and presses a quick, feather-light kiss to Goody’s cheek before pushing himself to his feet. He doesn’t let himself take the time to watch for Goody’s response, following Jake out of the room. 

The interior of the OCC passes in a blur until Billy finds himself seated in a comfortable room. There are couches and cushioned chairs along the walls, with a few tables at the corners and what looks like a coffee table in the center. The only thing even remotely office-like about it is the ancient-looking laptop that Jake booted up as soon as they sat down, the two manila envelopes, (one thick enough that the spine showed signs of strain while the other looked empty) and a clipboard with thick stack of papers on it neatly arranged on said coffee table. 

Jake pulls the computer onto his knees, glances down at and then up at Billy. “Okay. I’ve got you down in the system as Byeong-Rok Song, with the preferred name of Billy. Is that right? I just want to make sure I’m getting this all accurately because we’ve got a lot to cover in a short time within ethical parameters and your comfort zone.”

“Yeah. Billy’s good.”

Jake smiles at him and it looks sincere. “Great. Okay. Billy, how much do you know about the various levels of Omega custody ?”

“Not much.” Sure he’d studied Omega rights in school. He was a feminist and pro-Omega lib. He’d had Omega friends who told him how hard it was to be an Omega in a restaurant kitchen and how fucked up people’s attitudes could be about Omega impulse control and legalities of body autonomy but, beyond showing up to support whatever they were doing (because he didn’t need to fully understand people’s problems to want to help out) it had never touched him personally. 

Custody wasn’t really a thing in Korea the same way it was in the U.S., with varying levels, intensity, and time-periods. Sure, it used to be and the cultural values were still ridiculously traditional but legally? Legal custody only existed within families or the government and only then during active heats. They’d emigrated when he was seven and with his mother and brother both being Betas and his father and sister being fellow Alphas, dealing with the American Omega custody system had just never come up.

“I’m not going to give you a history lesson, because it’s depressing,” Jake says waving a hand. “But nowadays, custody is 100% optional. We’ve got temporary custody, which is just a fancy way of saying that an Alpha is legally allowed in the heat room with an Omega who has checked themselves into an OCC for care; short-term custody, which is when an Omega wants entrust their health and safety to an Alpha they met through our program and go home with them. How is that different from taking a one night stand? Liability shit, to be perfectly honest with you, because of all the reproductive health and safety stuff involved in heats - babies, bonding, mating - we’re protectors and providers and we don’t take that lightly but short-term custody gives those responsibilities to the Alpha who the Omega matches with and the legalities and procedures we take ensure that those commitments and responsibilities are met. There’s a lot but its short-term hence the name. Long-term is the same, only it implies repeats. The last kind is full custody, which-“ Jake pauses to sigh and reach out, putting his hand on the thick folder, “is Goodnight’s case. That’s a lot more complicated.”

Billy leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. He’s only ever heard whispers of full custody in history classes. It was paramount to slavery back in the bad old days, before Omegas could vote or own property or work. He doesn’t know much about it now beyond the fact that most Omegas don’t want it.

“The short version is that it’s voluntarily going old school. An Omega chooses to give up their autonomy in exchange for security, sex, affection, care. They submit to an Alpha’s ownership, basically, because, well, our instincts are pretty submissive by nature. This is a legal recourse to make that binding, at least until the Omega chooses to recuse him or herself. It almost always ends in mating if not full bonding but it’s…intense.” Jake scratches his beard. “I’ve seen two. It really works for the people it works for. It doesn’t work at all for almost everyone else.”

It takes Billy a few seconds to realize his jaw has dropped. When he does he snaps it shut. The kneeling. The neck. Holy shit. So many things were clicking into place now. “It sounds like-“

“Do not say slavery.” Jake says quickly like this is a conversation he’s had before. “Because it’s not. It’s disrespectful as hell to the Omegas who choose this life, including Goodnight who, I’ll remind you, you had your knot in not ten minutes ago. At most it’s marriage plus, like, I don’t know, power of attorney on-steroids with the option to terminate at any time through the clerk of courts or by coming to any OCC in the country in case of emergency. There’s even an app now. It’s pretty cool actually, used to be iOS compatible only but it’s on the GooglePlay store now too.”

“I was going to say some BDSM shit but.” He lets the implication hang. It did sound a little like slavery. A little too much like it for his taste, actually. 

“Well, yeah, I’ll give you that,” Jake agrees. He scratches his beard again, a clear tell of his anxiety. “Listen, Goodnight’s. He’s older than pretty much all our other clients, he’s serious about being full custody and believe me, after a few really bad incidents back in the sixties and seventies, OCCs have implemented consistently updated evidence-based psych evaluations on all Omegas who request full custody. He’s passed them all every time. He’s-“ Billy watches him flounder. “He’s not a kid weathering his heat and he’s not fucking around, pardon my French. He’s serious. He’s been here for two years, okay? Two. And he’s special to all of us. So if you can’t handle what it means to take full custody of an Omega, you need to tell me now, and then you need to get the hell out because there isn’t a person in this building who wouldn’t gladly slit your throat if you hurt him. I promise you that.”

This close Billy can see that Jake’s eyes are a warm hazel and they are cold as ice. It makes his throat tight and his heart beat even faster than it had when Goody dropped for him. 

He doesn’t know if he can do it. He doesn’t even fucking know if he wants to. It’s so much. Too much. 

But. 

But.

He can hear Goody saying “I want us to fit.” He can still feel his auburn hair in between his fingers and the way he melted into Billy’s touch. He can practically taste his constant laughter and how it let him God. Fuck.

“Billy?” Jake says gently “You okay? I know this is a lot and if you want, you’re welcome to take some time. Goodnight knows the protocols for this and I was told you didn’t come here looking for an Omega. I can go talk to him for you, tell him whats going on if you need.”

He rubs his forehead then shakes his no. He isn’t sure, not even remotely. But he knows that he doesn’t want to walk away, at least not entirely. “Do I have to commit now?”

“No. But you need to know that’s what he’s going to be expecting. If you’re not, you need to have that conversation or not go to him again.”

Walking away should be the clear choice, obvious even, because he’s always been getting ready for his next move. It made it easy for him to leave his family for college across the country on the East Coast, made it fine to go back to Seattle when he dropped out, added to the giddiness of running to San Francisco when a quality culinary school finally accepted him. When Emma asked him to come out Kansas and help her start a restaurant after her father’s death called her back to Wichita, his constant forward drive kicked in again like breathing, like he hadn’t been fucking the same Beta guy for the last four months and didn’t have a pretty sweet gig as an executive chef at one of the best restaurants in town. He was always ready to go because there was nothing holding him down. It was easy to go with the flow when nothing really mattered and honestly, the mental peace of not-giving-a-shit had always given him a feeling of freedom. 

So of course leaving was the clear answer.

But when he thinks about what it could feel like to be held down by someone else’s need, to know that he’d always have to come back? If he thinks about how he would feel, deep down where the parts of him that make up his identity reside, if he knew that he couldn’t just float away and never come back like he had never gone back to Korea, or any of the places he’d lived before his mom got her green card worked out, or Washington or California he knows they'd be temptation? He thinks that kind of connection could be chains Billy is tempted to lock on himself and throw away the keys. Alphas had never gotten collars or leashes or brands. They got a scar if they were lucky enough to find an Omega who wanted to bond but the way Billy had always heard it, they were the one’s holding the tether, keeping their mate bound.

He doesn’t think that would be the case here. He’d be the one chained, bound to an Omega he’d never be able to do anything but want to care for, who would trust him even more than a child - because children didn’t know how badly you could hurt them. 

Weight like a yolk settles itself on Billy’s shoulders at the thought of taking on the role of full time custodian for Goody. There’d be so much he’d have to do, he’d have to give and what he’d have to commit. It’s heavy but it’s not uncomfortable. In fact, if he gives it some time, the pressure and strain that kind of responsibility could fit him as well as his knives or chef’s whites. The prospect should be a nightmare but instead the idea makes him just the tiniest bit giddy. 

He wants to say he’s not sure. The problem with that would be that it would make him a liar because he is sure. He was probably sure the moment he gone from marveling over Goody’s unexpected submission to to accepting it. Only he can’t get that out either at the moment. 

What he says instead is, “We’ll talk it out.”

Jake beams at him. “Great. Now we’ve got a whole lot of legal paperwork to fill out before I let you back up there and I want to get a quick blood sample if I can so we can get you both processed out of here fast if you decide to file for full custody.” He pulls a small black plastic first-aid kit out from under his seat. When he opens it, Billy catches a glimpse of rows of small test tubes, band-aids, and one of those tiny finger pins that he’s seen his diabetic diners use. It’s all very organized.

He’d be impressed if he weren’t starting to get impatient.

“And then I can see him?”

Jake nods and holds out the clipboard with the hand not fiddling inside the first-aid kit. There are even more pages than Billy thought, each one a wall between him and the juicy, sweet, smart Omega waiting for Billy to come fuck him through his slick, blinding heat in the same building. Jesus it’s like hell in paperwork form.

“Read that, then initial anywhere there’s an X initial. Sign and date where it’s highlighted. Once you get through all that, and we get this,” he jerks his chin at the kit. “Then it would be my pleasure to take you to Goodnight.”

Billy looks down at the stack of papers that have become his enemy. There’s a pen dangling from a chain attached to the clipboard and he is pleased to note that it only shakes a little in his hand. He begins to read and then, with trembling fingers, he signs his name on the first page.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:  
> 1)Liability, confidentiality and consent are huge in social services you guys. Huge. This is a mega abridge version of what I imagine would be involved in a world like this for connivence/plot/sexiness sake because all the details I imagine would be boring to read and write. Also I am pretty sure if something like this did exist? Billy wouldn't get out of the interview room and back up to Goodnight because of everything involving client care.  
> 2)Title from Gimme Sympathy by Metric


	6. If You Try Sometimes You'll Find You Get What You Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goody can't always get what he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greatest of thanks to DecoyOcelot for cheerleading in a way I never knew I always needed. Thank you so much. This fic really is for you.

The heat rooms are everything Goody remembers and more. When he was in one last was during the tour he took of the OCC two years ago. Back then it had been just a kingsized bed, an en suite and a mini-fridge. 

Now? There’s a freaking breeding bench in one corner where a chair might be in a hotel and the mini-fridge is replaced with a full-sized number, fully stocked, and a microwave. There’s also two bedside drawers filled with literally every kind of toy he can imagine and a veritable cornucopia of soft leather restraints dangling from a coat-hanger. It’s impressive and he hasn’t even explored the en suite yet.

He explores the toys while he waits. The world isn’t what it was forty years ago and full custody can be a lot to wrap a mind around. He understands. That doesn’t change the fact that now that Billy’s fucked him, his heat is full blown. 

Readiness is going to be key when Billy comes back. Heat can be as intoxicating as alcohol in his experience and he wants to be clear-headed for the talk that is undoubtedly coming upon his Alpha’s return. So reaching for the largest knotted vibrator in the OCC provided collection of vibrators is not about lust so much as practicality.

The toy is blessedly plain - it (the vibrator, the dildo - Goody makes himself think these words before he gets the thing inside his ass, it’s only right to own what he’s doing) is a cylinder in a shade of pale teal that is nothing like flesh but not embarrassing either. The knot is the size of a baseball and conceals the vibration controls with gently curved point at that is made factory-perfect for pushing inside a willing body. The vibrator is a heavy weight in his palm, longer than any partner he’s ever had, soft on the outside but with a solid core of plastic and metal that will never have the same give as a real cock. His body seems to recognize that the dildo is close enough though, because his hole pulses and floods at the knowledge of how this simple machine will stuff him full and plug him up.

Goody sighs and kicks out of his pants before climbing beneath the sheets of the massive bed. They’re smooth and cool and feel amazing against his burning skin. Yet all he cares about is being covered now with his custody status up in the air. 

Even when he brings his knees up and plants his feet on the mattress to open his ass, he feels protected by his shirt and covers. He sinks farther down into the pillows as he slides the vibrator deep inside with one hard thrust. He starts a steady rhythm then turns it on, letting the buzzing hum fill the room as he moans, still hidden by his little tent.

He loses track of time quickly after that. He gets lost in his body - the wetness dripping down his crack and forming a puddle beneath him in the fabric, the clenching of muscles in his arms and stomach and thighs and feet and oh, Jesus Christ, his hole. His rim and muscles far inside spasm and grip the silicone so hard the sensation is blinding. The vibrations from the toy itself shake his fillings in his molars and his eyes in their sockets. 

Goody doesn’t know if minutes or hours or days have passed when his mind finally meets his body in agreement that he needs the knot to catch. Goddamnit, he fucking has to have it. He can’t breathe the desperation is so intense. He hurts and he’s empty and the ache inside him isn’t just pain anymore, it’s starvation.

This is not easy like it was with Billy. Bending over and letting him in was simple. He could just give over and submit under Billy’s hands and mouth and cock and his warm voice. Like this, he can’t let go. There’s nothing to surrender to, not even his own needs, because only he can take care of this, and he hates it.

He’s just so damn tired, of all of it. He’s fucking exhausted, has been for years, and the beautiful answer to his deepest desires is so close to being his, yet so far away. It hurts like the heat hunger never has, this hateful goddamn _hope_

Truly, Goody would rather know what he wants with Billy could never be than wait on a string of possibility like this. Knowing would be it’s own kind of submission, surrender. To heartbreak, yes, but still. He could let go, at least of this Alpha, if not all of his dreams.

Admitting this to himself is like a release all its own. For a split second, his straining body relaxes allowing the dildo’s knot, bigger and less forgiving than Billy’s yet infinitely less satisfying - to lock inside his channel. He comes like death throws. He would swear every cell in his body spasms in concert with bliss until he is empty but for the shaking, trembling vibrator plugging his ass tightly closed. Hollow but finally. Himself again, at least for a bit. 

He’s glad of his foresight about a minute later when there’s a rap on the door. “Goodnight? It’s Gavin. Can I come in?”

“Enter, my good man,” Goody calls, reaching between his legs to turn the damn vibrations off. “Just don’t expect me to get up.”

“I’d never.” Gavin chuckles as he steps into the room. An Omega himself, no doubt Gavin has more than an inkling of what Goody has going on under the blankets but the man, while blunt and a bit nervous, is not so uncouth as to bring it up. “I wanted to talk to you about your potential Alpha.”

Goody can feel his heart double its pace in his chest. “Oh?” He hopes that came out sounding relaxed and unconcerned. “A little bird tweet something interesting in your ear?”

“Jake says he’s been pretty thoroughly briefed on your situation and that he’s filled out all the consent paperwork and is on his pretty way to you. The worrywart just wanted me to check and make sure you still wanted him to come up.” Gavin rolls his eyes. 

Goody gapes at Gavin. “You must be joshing me.” Gavin tilts his head and raises his eyebrows in question and Goodnight huffs frustratedly. “Of course I want him.”

“That’s what what I thought. Still needed to ask before I could go.” He smiles. “See you on the other side, Goody.” He gave a casual, terribly executed salute and slipped out, calling back “Had to follow protocol,” as the door closed behind it.

Goody understands. It’s a huge part of what allows OCCs function so well. The follow the policies and procedures and they don’t make exceptions on their strict protocols for anyone or anything.

Quite frankly, Goody fucking loves the protocol. He joined the Army for a reason and it wasn’t because he liked killing people. He craves structure, order, knowing what he needs to do and how things will work. A lot of Omegas are like that, it’s why they make such good soldiers. While Alphas are famous for their aggression and are noted as the majority of the most famous military leaders, all of history is been packed to the brim with Omega warriors - Omega men especially but the women too. Hell, even the US, the last developed country to include Omega women in the draft and send them to the front lines, had changed their regulations in the aftermath of Vietnam. 

No government on earth was stupid enough to waste the efforts of a group that were ready and willing to serve and comfortable with the obedience military hierarchy demands. 

The lack of structure had made reintegration after detachment difficult for him, far more difficult than Sam or Josh or even a Beta like Jack. He’d hoped he would find an Alpha when he retired, who would mate him and possess him and ease some of that ache for submission but he never found it. 

The OCC had filled the space - with its careful rules and emphasis on seeing them followed. Right now, however, he is sorely inconvenienced by those rules he so greatly appreciated.

But there’s the possibility of Billy now. Billy’s hands and voice and personality and presence. Billy could be **his Alpha** and suddenly all the support in the world doesn’t seem like much of anything. He drapes his arm across his eyes, blocking out the light and fighting back the sting behind his eyelids. He was not some weepy old biddy and not even the explosion of hormones from heat had ever affected him like this before. 

Tears leak free anyway, unwelcome, and he fucking hates his weakness. He was a Ranger, Goddamnit. He’s killed men without a thought. He’s survived impossible situations that would make normal people die of fear alone. He’s stronger than his body and stronger than the chemicals in his brain. Only not right now, apparently. 

The sharp knock on the door is a blessed interruption that pulls him out of his out of his reverie sharply. He rubs his eyes hard, makes sure the sheet is upped up to his arm pits and sits up as best he can, still stuffed full of the long silicone cock and its fist-sized knot. He barely manages to get upright and it makes him sweat but when he slides his knees down, he can get a clear view of the door and greet his visitors like a normal civilian and not the desperate cumslut that he actually was.

“Do come in.” He calls and is so relieved when Billy enters the room he could start crying all over again. He doesn’t (barely), and even manages an exhausted and strained smile at his lovely man. God, he looks even better than he smells and he smells like heaven made manifest. It shouldn’t be possible. Fuck, his presence makes Goody’s body clench and spasm involuntarily around the hard toy inside him and he has to fight to keep his face blank, as he waves Billy in. “I imagine you were informed we need to talk?”

Billy nods, his now-sloppy bun bobbing just a little as he makes his way across the room to the bed. He toes off his shoes and settles down on the bed beside Goody, knees facing the headboard. 

Goody’s eyes cut to the socked feet near his hands. “Please, by all means, make yourself comfortable.”

“Thanks.”

Grinning, Goody shakes his head and marvels at the amount of assholeish good humor he managed to infuse into that single word. It’s a ridiculously attractive, as if he weren’t devastating enough. 

“And thank you because having two-day-old socks shoved in my face is definitely how I wanted to officially kick of my first heat with an Alpha in nearly a decade. Huzzah.” He drawls.

“These socks are clean,” Billy says. He leans forward and tugs them off one after the other. When he settles again, his toes are mere inches from his shoulders. Goody’s never been into feet but the Billy’s look strong and solid, like they can hold any weight. 

Goody flops back on down to the mattress then reaches out to wrap his fingers around Billy’s ankle. 

The warmth of his skin under the ridges of his fingertips cools his heat somehow. The touch alone breaks him open and relaxes all the little pieces still scrambling around inside him. _Please,_ Goody thinks, please let me keep him. At least for a little while.

What he says is, “You and Jake discuss anything interesting? The weather? Current events?”

“Drew some blood. Got an Star Wars bandaid.” 

Hope spikes his chest, so hard and fast it feels like being stabbed. “Oh?”

“Princess Leia,” he affirms, tapping his inner elbow. “My favorite.”

“Metal bikinis are your thing, huh?”

“Gorgeous, brilliant, war heroes are my thing.”

Shock like a cold, slimy slap flashes through Goody for an ugly moment because he never told Billy he was in the war. Since he knows that Jake would never disclose , that could only mean Billy saw his file somehow or maybe- 

His thoughts come to a screeching halt when Goody remembers that even though he’s pants-less and stuffed full of fake knot, he is still wearing his oldest Army t-shirt. He has been wearing it all day, slept in it last night. He was wearing it when he met Billy through that wall of glass.

As soon as he realizes, Goody’s face goes so fucking hot he’s burning alive and it’s a totally different kind of fire than his heat. This is embarrassment. He’d rather have his heat, thanks. 

He turns his head on the pillow because he can’t look at Billy but fuck, he can’t seem to close his eyes either. “Billy, you don’t know me like that.”

“No,” Billy agrees softly. “But we have time.” Goody feels fingertips touch his chin and brush against his beard then tugs his face back towards Billy. When their eyes meet again, Billy says “I can learn.”

He’s suffocating. He’s exploding. He’s dying. “Do we?”

“Jake gave me a run down on the basics. I figure there’s a little more to the full custody than he told me in the time we had.”

Goody snorted. “That’s a bit like saying that the Washington Monument is a little phallic.”

“So, it might be too much for me. I don’t know if—“ Billy breaks off and inhales sharp and loud. He holds it then exhales hard. “I want to try. That I can do.”

“Try? Goody repeats, breathless.

Billy nods and Goody sparks like match. “I can’t give you any guarantees but we could try,” he says and Goody catches fire. 

“Yes, please,” Goody groans, tugging a little on Billy’s leg, trying to get him closer so that they could start trying now. Right fucking now. Or at least get some more skin contact at any rate. 

Billy chuckles and moves forward, gliding a hand up his chest over his t-shirt and then slid to cup the side of his neck and cover one of the bite marks his Alpha incisors had left. The contact satisfies impulses so primal that Good feels like his bones liquify under the force of the intense relief. The only action he manage in reciprocation is another broken “Please,” before Billy finally kisses him.

When their lips meet, Goodnight could come just from that Their mouths meeting and joining illuminate him from the inside like a lighthouse in a storm because Billy’s kiss tastes like his future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:  
> 1) I feel like there aren't enough enough Omegas-as-natural soldiers fic. Where are all the warrior Omegas? Seriously, if you have a trope where an entire gender of people thrive on taking orders - why not put them in the military? A reliable birth control method (just don't fuck them during heat), and a group of people who dig on doing what they're told?   
>   
> 2) That said, I've been doing an insane amount of work on veteran reintegration to civilian life as it relates to social service practices lately. Like. So much. While there's a whole shitload of issues that I'm not going to get into (literally, there are entire books on it) one of the biggest is that US veterans face is a lack of structure after detachment. Going from a world where it's all rules and regs all the time to one where it's a free for all creates problems for even the healthiest, most well-adjusted person let alone a combat vet with fairly severe PTSD like Goodnight Robicheaux so, since I'm a nerd, I can't really ignore how that problem would be amplified by the whole "biological need submit" issue in a ridiculous peice of fanfic.  
> 3) Why yes, Gavin is THAT Gavin, as in the one who owns the whorehouse in Rose Creek. It seemed fitting to keep him around the building where people have sex on tap. He's more chill because there's less money and more consent involved which makes life more relaxed for everyone, if you ask me. :D  
> 4)Rest in peace Carrie. You went out of this world the way you came in -drowned in moonlight, strangled by your own bra.  
> 5)Chapter title is from You Can't Always Get What You Want by the Rolling Stones


	7. I've Got a Collar Full of Chemistry From Your Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy wants to give Goody what they both want, and that means they have to leave the OCC.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm graduating in 2 weeks. IDK if i'll be back to this before then. So, in honor of the occassion - have some social work in the vicinity of intense feelings.
> 
> Thanks for the support yall. And always, for Decoy_Ocelot, who knows this story better than I do.

Billy feels like the world is spinning too fast as he sits with Goody in the front office. They haven’t had too much time for conversation since Billy pulled that slick-drenched toy out of Goody’s hole and replaced it with his cock thirty-six hours ago in the heat room. It’s been all desperate kisses, clutching hands, and frantic fucking. 

Then, finally, there’d been a half hour pause between rounds. After the second break that had lasted long enough for Billy to actually throw food together without Goody tucked up under his arm, Goody had proposed the option of leaving.

“We don’t have to,” he said nervously, draped over Billy’s chest, knot still locking them together. “We don’t have to leave at all but we could. I’ve been staying with a friend who lives about fifteen minutes away. He’d understand and clear out for a couple days.”

“Don’t wanna stay?”

“I don’t mind but I’m not particularly fond of institutional settings,” Goody had admitted and as far as Billy was concerned, that had been that.

Martin had called them an Omega Left and was grinning him smuggle from the front desk. Smug. Yep. That was the only word for it. 

“How you holding up Goodnight?” Martin asks gently. “Got everything? All right?”

“I’ll be fine if that fucking car will just show up.”

“Well it is a Lyft Line so-“

The look Goody shoots Martin could cut glass. “Don’t even joke, you son of a bitch.” 

Martin holds up his hands, grinning. “Okay, okay. It’s Premier. Luxury car, Omega driver and everything” Billy watches as the man’s eyes go soft. “You think we wouldn’t take care of you Goodnight?”

Goody’s eyes cut to the floor and he shrugs. Billy’s chest aches and from the look on his face, Martin probably feels the same. Billy reaches out and cups the back of Goody’s neck like he was taught in high school health class, thumb pressing gently into one of the bond glands under his skin. He’s never done it before but it really is as powerful as they told him it could be. Goody unravels like unspooled thread. It’s as beautiful as it is terrifying. 

Martin just smirks. “Great. Now, we just have to get you collared and then you can go out and wait for your ride.”

“What the fuck?” Billy snaps, louder and harsher than is probably warranted. Goody flinches and shrinks away just a little but he doesn’t try and duck out from Billy’s touch. 

Martin glares at him even as he he opens a white plastic box on his desk that Billy hadn’t noticed before. It’s a collar case. “I know Jake told you about this, Mr. Song.” He spins the case around so they can both see the collar, a quarter of an inch thick, black leather with a small silver buckle and silver square that seemed to house some kind of electronic display no bigger than a quarter. Billy is starting to sweat just looking at it.

Goody goes stiff again under his touch. “Oh, he breathes, soft and stunned. His scent floods the room in a rush and Billy goes instantly hard because shit. He’s wet again. Thats the only thing that can mean. God. 

“It’s a monitor collar.” Martin explains. “Standard procedure for the first three months of a full custody arrangement, sometimes sex. Depends.” He shrugs. “Keeps track of the Omega’s vitals, tracks for prolonged stress, anxiety, other basically anything else we could cram in there that might tell us that the Alpha is treating him like shit.”

Him, Billy notes, not them or the Omega. Yeah, Martin definitely does not like him. Or even if he does, he likes Goody too much to trust him. Billy cannot blame him.

“Can he put it on me?” Goody asks. He turns to Billy and amends, “Only if you want to, cher. You don’t have to, of course. But.” His swallow isn’t audible so much as it is visible. “Please.”

Billy stares into the plastic case at the unassuming strip of of fabric and tries not have a panic attack.

Oh, yeah, sure Martin might say this is just a monitor but collars are a big deal. The were different things to different people - even in the diverse spectrum of American relationships, but on any given day Billy saws many, if not more ,committed Omegas wearing collars than wedding rings. They held enormous weight, symbolized ridiculous amounts of trust, especially when locked. But even an unlocked collar -intentionally given and happily accepted - were a loud, public declaration, often of marriage, usually because of bonding, but always to mark the commitment. 

For an Omega to offer, though, was an gift and a promise. It was as much as declaring _I’m giving myself to you. I’ll belong to you; if you just take me I’ll be yours. Will you accept this offer?_ in a way that was a thousand times louder than words. 

Billy is now sure this is the feeling his sous chef Faraday had told him about time six months ago when he’d crashed into Billy’s kitchen an hour before he was scheduled to be there (instead of his usual half hour late) and started babbling how he "wouldn’t know a healthy relationship if it introduced itself by name, gave him a suck job, then punched him in the face", and how he "could barely keep the kitchen afloat shape that time you had food poisoning let alone my own own life. Billy would disagree with that last bit because the kid was a good sous, possibly the best he's ever had. He runs a tight ship and while he makes decisions Billy never would, he can trust Faraday with his kitchen when he wasn’t there - even if white boy is a fall-down disaster in every other aspect of his life including, apparently, his tall, dark, and handsome Omega boyfriend). 

Yeah, Billy is feeling pretty shitty about laughing now. When Faraday was faced with the prospect of publicly claiming his boyfriend, he had given Billy a desperate look and begged to know how (if he could barely take care of himself) limited judgment and social skills could cope with the nurturer instincts collaring an Omega would trigger. It had seemed ridiculous to Billy because honestly, it was just a relationship. Who cared how it was done? So, Billy's brain had only been able scrape the bottom of the barrel. _Sleep on it. Pros and con list. Ask someone who has dated someone for over a year for advice on this stuff, Josh, Jesus._ None of that seemed like a good idea to actually say out loud. In the end he’d pulled a page out of Emma’s book (well, Emma’s father through her) and said “I imagine you’ll do what’s right.”

Faraday looked up and his eyes had been filled with a pain similar to the girl who got her hair caught in a sewing machine in the alteration shop where his mother worked when he was in fourth grade. She had been yanked forward until the there was nothing so much as blood and screaming. Faraday had looked that way, like he was being pulled so hard that if his love were a physical thing, it would be torn and bleeding like that girl’s scalp. 

“Fuck,” Faraday said, smiling through that horrible look. "I have to be with Vas, man. I can’t just rip out my guts and on keep walking, you know? So what the hell do I even do?”

Billy hadn’t had an answer then. He’d given Faraday an award backslapping bro-hug and sent him to go do mis-en-place for the day because he did not need a distracted Faraday ruining orders all night. It had been the only thing he could give the guy because the whole thing had been so far beyond him.

Amazing how fast things change when it’s your own stakes, Billy thinks. He definitely has an answer for himself now. He decided in the meeting with Jake, and then again when he went up to Goody’s heat room, and then again as he lay in bed with the Omega and felt those long fingers wrap gently around the fragile bones below the round bone of his ankle, smelling like new slick and older come and clean sweat with skin that felt softer than the sheets beneath them. 

Taking the collar out with fingers that shake, Billy is doing his damnedest to accept what he’s being given with grace, to be worthy of the opportunity for the bone-deep intimacy being offered. He still doesn’t know Goody that well, it’s been about two days but he’s never connected with anyone like this - not his parents, not his siblings, no friends or classmates, not anyone he’s worked with. Hell, not even Emma and he dropped his whole life when she asked. 

He could only say yes to Goody. He’s starting to notice that’s becoming a trend. 

Collar in both hands, he clears his throat and meets Goody’s sea-foam eyes. “How do you want to do this? I mean, we have a ride coming, and-”

“I cancelled it,” Martin chirps, ever the happy helper. “I’ve got it set to reorder when you’re ready.

Goody mumbles a thanks. 

Billy continues without even blinking. “We’re not alone.”

“I don’t mind, cher.”

Billy lips tremble and he’s about to pull something out of the consent handbook like “are you sure?” Or “really?” But then he catches the quickest dart of Goody’s tongue across his lips, the crinkle around his eyes, the light behind them. Now that he’s looking, he can see that Goody’s breath is coming a little faster too. 

Sure. “Don’t mind” his bony ass. This is what Goody wants, what he's probably fantasized about. Billy is pretty sure he didn’t manipulate this situation into being but he is definitely shameless about it now that they’re here. He kind of admires that kind of unabashed honesty in the pursuit of what one desires.

Martin says nothing which Billy decides to take as tacit consent. 

“Okay.” Billy takes a better grip on the collar and rises to his feet, pushing the chair back away from Martin’s desk so there’s room for them both.

And then Goody slides out of his chair onto his goddamn _hands_ and _knees_ and motherfuckfucking _crawls_ to Billy’s feet before sitting back in a resting kneel at Billy’s feet. Everything from his graceful form as he slinks across the room like some strange predatory cat, to his positioning with his knee a hair’s breadth from Billy’s boot, to his impeccable posture are so traditional and perfect it looks like he could have come out of a scene in a Merchant Ivory film or those HBO historical dramas where everyone looked beautiful all the time, even in dirt and gore.

Billy can’t help but reach out and run a hand through his short brown hair, so much paler than his, starting to go grey in places even though he’s not yet forty. Goody pushes into the touch like a kitten and Billy hums in contentment. He could stay like this for hours, for days, just listening to Goody make those noises, seeing his face make that little blissed out expression, watching his shoulders drop one centimeter at a time as the tension leaches out of him.

He indulges for a count of fifty because the thick, rich scent of Goody’s heat is still hanging thick in the air, a reminder that they are both on a clock. They need to finish so they can get home. He wants to fuck Goody in his own bed, and if he doesn’t get him collared before they need to stay for another round.

“I promise to take care of you as long as you’re wearing this,” Billy says holding up the collar. “I wish I could make you a better commitment right now but if we work…” He swallows hard because that possibility feels too real and too impossible all at once, “I’ll replace it with my own.”

Goody smiles. “I promise, cher, whatever and however you want me, cher, I’m yours until you get rid of me.” Well, fuck if that isn't the most terrifying goddamn sentence anyone has ever said to him but he is hard enough to polish diamonds. Billy has never been simultaneously aroused and horrified at the same time. His cock is completely out of control. 

The fear ebbs when Goody drops his neck back and rolls it to expose the left side of his neck, giving Billy right-handed access. The gesture is pure animal submission and the want shouts down what fear remains. Even sliding on lose buckle through and closed on this Omega with his own hands would be a claim that made Billy feel a little faint. 

“This where you bow your head?” Billy asks, trying to keep the nerves out of his voice. 

Thats how it’s always done in the movies and on TV. The Omega bows their head and the Alpha buckles the collar and then if its a love scene they kiss and fade to black and if it’s an action flick, they run off to save the day. Neither of those fit the situation so he’s not sure that feels quite right.

Goody graces him with an expression that is somewhere between saucy and overwhelmed. If Billy could capture that energy in his food, people would fly to Wichita just to eat at his restaurant. He wants to know if he can make Goody look like this again, like he’s being consumed alive by a primal need and is laughing about it the whole way down.

“You tell me, Alpha,”Goody declares, as much a challenge as it is a promise to obey.

Fuck, Billy is ready to rise to it and take that power. “Tip back, let me see.”

Goody is all teeth when he drops his head backwards, his hair falling back of his forehead as he exposes the marks Billy left with his lips and his canines. The bite marks and hickies are stunning combinations of mottled purple, red, and blue. When he wraps the thin black strip around Goody’s neck and buckles the collar closed, they are framed perfectly.

He slides his finger between the collar and Goody’s soft skin and tugs. Goody’s breathing goes shallow and his eyes drift shit. He is beautiful. Billy wants to keep him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:  
> 1) The tech in that collar is my dream invention. I mean - imagine if there was some sort of little fit-bit kind of thing that kids in foster care and if they showed consistent distress? You could go in and check - not based on their behavior - just are they under duress? So many privacy issues and reasons that doesn't exist along with it being scifi.  
> 2)There would be wellness checks for any sort of adult in a care if they wanted to stay in a program where they got some kind of services. There's probably an agreement of some kind on initiation of services.  
> 3)Chapter title is from Collar Full by Panic! at the Disco


	8. I Feel You Whet My Appetite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goody's Alpha takes him home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbeta'd posting at 5am on an airplane flying home from alaska in the f$%&ing middle seat. don't judge me too harshly.
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter has descriptions of a military school that is inspired by the kind of gay reform schools that still exist today. It is not based on any existing institution, but there's definitely flavors of it. You'll know when you get there - just hit the space bare and scroll down a bit if thats triggering for you. As always: Read with your self-care in mind.

It’s been a very long time since Goody’s been in a new house. He mostly bounces from Sam’s to Jack’s to the place Vas and Josh share and then back to the OCC. The smells at those places are so routine he barely notices and what does register is easy. Josh and Sam’s Alpha scents are familial and exude a safety that is only half reality (because he adores Josh, he does, but that kid couldn’t protect…name a noun, really, any noun), Jack’s Beta neutrality is like a break from the world. Vasquez’s Omega pheromones put him at ease, sometimes (in his weaker moments) to a point that he just wants to cuddle up to the man they're nothing but a pair of puppies in a basket.

Billy’s house is nothing like that. Walking inside makes his knees give out on him. He swallows hard against the collar, the blessed fucking collar, and reaches out for the doorframe as that same drugging smell hits him from every surface and material. This is his Alpha’s den, every inch marked with the clear ownership of Billy Rocks.

He knows already that Billy isn’t possessive in the more animalistic of ways but damn. Fucking damn, he wants to be marked by him, too. He wants to be owned like that couch and this building and these walls. He wants to be a part of this property and only Billy’s arm around his shoulders keeps him from sinking to his knees and begging right there in the doorway. 

“Hey, Goody, you okay?”

“I…I need-“ He takes a deep breath. “It’s a lot.”

Billy laughs. “It’s been a really nuts couple of days.”

Goody nods and takes a deep breath. It doesn’t help. It just floods his body with the scent of Billy, of _his Alpha_. It feels so good, like sinking into hot water when all his muscles are strained an exhausted.

Billy turns towards him, brushing his hair off his forehead. ““Can I do anything for you or do you want the nickel tour?”

The gentle words and touch makes Goody want to fucking weep. God, this touch, this man, this Alpha, is giving him everything he’s ever wanted.

He wants many things. Goody doesn’t even know what to ask for first. He brings right hand up to touch his collar, running his fingers over the leather, just to reassure himself it’s there. For the next few weeks, he’s owned. He belongs to someone. He doesn’t have to decide.

“You pick,” he says horsely.

Billy licks his lips then ducks his head, pressing his nose gently into the space just behind his ear. The touch is so soft it’s almost ticklish as he inhales a deep breath and hums. “You still need me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Goody chokes out. His heats have been getting longer the older he gets, his body’s grabbing more and more desperately at efforts to conceive before he hits menopause. Where heats used to last three days in his teens and early twenties, his late twenties stretched to five and now that he’s in his thirties they’re almost always at least a week. His OOBGYN said that by the time he was about forty he could expect about ten days long heats before they stop all together sometime between forty-five and fifty.

All the air is pulled from his lungs when Billy nips the shell of his ear with his sharp Alpha canines. “My bedroom's at the end of that hallway on the left. Go make yourself comfortable. I’ll be there in ten minutes or so.” He pulls back and gives Goody that little half smile of his. “Wasn’t expecting company, especially not company that needs heat provisions.”

“Right,” Goody agrees. "Sure thing.” 

He turns to look at the hallway, not too long but dark after two days of disuse. He starts towards it but Billy’s voice stops him short.

“Omega, wait.”

His voice has a small waver too it but it’s mostly firm. He hasn’t called Goody that outside of the proverbial bedroom and it makes sparks shoot through every nerve ending. He turns his entire body so he can meet Billy’s dark eyes, kind and warm but resolute. “Yes?”

"Alpha."

Goody shivers. "Yes, Alpha."

He watches Billy take a deep breath and steel himself. “Be good for me and crawl there.”

He doesn’t hit the ground hard. He’s not as young as he used to be and doing that once has already hurt his knees. He goes down fast anyway. “Thank you, Alpha,” he murmurs when his hands hit the smooth hardwood. “God, thank you.”

Long fingers bury themselves in his hair and card through them, slow and soothing. “I can’t even believe this,” he says so softly Goody almost can’t hear him. Almost. Louder he says. “Go, Omega. I’ll be there soon. If you still need me, get yourself ready while you wait.”

Goody whispers his thanks again, under his breath this time, feeling lighter as he moved for the relief of choice from the equation. Action is easy; decision is where the exhaustion comes from. 

His mind goes blank has he makes his way to his Alpha’s room. Low to the ground, moving steadily on his hands and knees and shins jolts the plug he put in before they left the OCC and takes all his attention. How can he think of anything else when his Alpha, his fucking _Master_ told him to crawl? He can’t. All he can do is follow the order into the bedroom, at a strange loose peace he doesn’t really recognize even if he loves it. 

The room is painted warm ochre color but the full mostly Ikea furniture, smooth curves made to look expensive but not quite managing. The dressers, night stand, and bookshelves are all serviceable though. The bed is the sole exception. It's a massive expanse of brown and red comforters and pillows complimenting a[lovely, brown wrought iron frame with a diamond geometric pattern in the head and footboard, like an old-time elevator gate](http://horizonhomefurniture.net/wp-content/uploads/2016/06/Metal-Works-Gate-Bed-single.png), deceptively simple from a distance but intricate and complex up close. 

Goody immediately is swamped with images of restraints threaded around the slats or a leash looped and tied through the spaces, making him clench and throb around his plug. God, he wished he had either so he could present himself for Billy like that on his beautiful fucking bed. 

He settles for reclining on his back and gripping the slats with both hands, above his head. He spreads his legs so that Billy will be able to see the plug and the shine of slick between on his asscheeks and inner thighs as soon as he walks in.

Sometime in the wait for Billy to arrive, Goody must let go of himself. He doesn’t realize it happens but the room fades away and he is nothing but the thrum of want in his muscles and veins, the aching stretch in his stuffed hole, and the spasms of pleasure deep inside as his body tries to leak more lube around the plug and failed, filling him up with a fluid of a different consistency from the cum that Billy left behind.

He’s turned so deeply inward that being touched brings him back to the surface with a sharp and stunned gasp. He sounds like he’s coming up for air after nearly drowning and Billy looks worried.

“Hey, Goody, it’s okay.” Billy’s hands are on his face, knuckles caressing his cheeks, thumbs applying soothing pressure to his eyebrows, fingertips smoothing his beard and mustache. “Are you all right?”

If he weren’t, he certainly is under the petting. “Mm-hm. You startled me, ma règle. That’s all.”

“I can see that.” Warm hands slide up his legs from ankles to inner thighs. Shivering is a totally involuntary response, especially when those careful hands moves trace his rim where it’s stretched around the toy. “I can’t tell if you look overworked or comfortable laid out like this.”

“It’s comfortable,” Goody sighs, melting into the touch, letting his legs go limp now that Billy will hold him open. The sensitive skin of his hole tries to close and fails, just reminding him of how much more he needs before his heat burns itself out. “I’m hungry.”

That makes Billy chuckle. It’s a low sound. Billy’s voice is lower than his, dark and smooth like bass notes at least an octave below a standard scale. “Good to know.” He tucks an imaginary strand of hair behind Goody’s ear and the tenderness goes farther to undo him. “You were gone.” The worry is back. Goody wants it gone.

“Mm. Was good.” His smile feels drugged so he can’t imagine what it must look like. “Could go again. Will when you fuck me.” He licks his lips and knows he can’t keep the hope off his face.

“So long as you promise to tell me if there’s anything you don’t like.”

“Yes, Alpha.” He can do that. He waits for other orders but they don’t come. “Alpha?”

“Hm?”

“What else do you want me to do?”

Billy’s grin is predatory and Goody’s hunger intensifies. “Take it.”

“Fuck, yes, please, ma règle.”

Billy kisses him instead of telling him to shut up, which Goody appreciates. Not that he doesn’t like being silenced (he truly can't stop himself from talking far too often) but there’s a time and place and the first time in his Alpha’s bed is neither. He barely feels the plug removed because his Alpha’s thick cock fills the emptiness so fast. Then he’s sinking into the stretch and the fullness and the rightness of being an Omega getting heatfucked by Alpha cock. It’s primal, instinctual and makes his bones feel like they fit in his body after years of being out of socket in his very skeleton. 

Goody feels like everything he is melts away as Billy drills into him with a brutality that he probably couldn’t take outside of heat. He’s one live nerve electric at the fact that the hollow receptacle he’s been for so long won’t be empty anymore. If he cries when Billy knots, he’s too deep in himself to notice. Everything is too good. He is too good. He is where he is meant to be, doing what he’s meant to do, for the Alpha he is meant for. He’s a fucking Omega and he’s reveling in it. 

When he comes back to himself, his whole body is wet. His stomach is splattered with spend from an orgasm he didn’t really feel. His hole is drenched and a slippery thin drip of slick coats the backs of his thighs and over his cheeks, thick and sticky mixed with the same come inside his hole where he’s stuffed full of Billy’s knot. Everywhere else sweat has collected - in the fur on his chest, arms and legs, drenching his hair, stinging his eyes, and cooling his skin. 

He blinks a few more times, trying to find reality. He finds Billy’s soft mouth and gentle eyes and lovely dark hair. He wants to run his fingers through it, but he feels welded to the headboard. He doesn’t want to let go, doesn’t even know if he can.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. This is okay.”

“You checked out on me,” Billy says dryly. “Again.”

“A testament to your talent, cher.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You feel so good.” He knows he probably is grinning like a loon but he doesn’t care. He wiggles a little, getting comfortable with his legs locked around Billy’s waist. “This feels good.”

Billy gives him a long look and nods. Goody hums and closes his eyes. 

He hasn’t felt this content since his first heat. The next day, everything had fallen apart. His father had pulled him out of the mess of his bed, shoved him in the shower and dragged him to a doctor who happened to be one of his frat brothers who could help him over come his "weakness". His father’s friend had written a script for suppressants that would supposedly "fix his problem."

They weren't like the ones his classmates were on though, small and simple meds that covered scents to keep private lives private or to slow and minimize heats with most of the same side effects as the birth control. These were first generation broad spectrum hormone blockers from the early 60s that had sent his local pharmacist's eyebrows shooting up the first time he picked them up because they were only used for the most drastic hormonal imbalances by the 80s. Blockers were a cudgel where the suppressants available to his peers were a scalpel. They were a fucking nightmare that killed his sense of smell(and with it his tastebuds), stopped his heats all together and prevented menstruation as well. He took them for six months before the cramping, vomiting and downright wrongness of it all had lead him to flush the hateful horse pills. He’d told his mother he wasn't taking them again because he’d been fourteen and still told her everything. By the end of the week, his father had sent him to military reform school school where suppressants weren’t optional for any secondary gender and he'd known he could never tell his mother anything that mattered to him again.

Goody had been as surprised as the rest of his family when he found he liked the military part of boarding school, the training and skills and combat and clean, worthy structure of it. The command and obey, dominance and submission structure of the military worked honestly to build a single being satisfied that desire inside him to create through submission. He'd been the best cadet with a weapon in his hands that academy had seen in a decade. What he’d hated was the posturing, the arrogant, aggressive bullshit. That was what created the expectations that forced every cadet, no matter their genders, primary or secondary, to behave in a way that was socially abusive just to protect themselves from each other as well to prove their place. Unnecessarily cruel discipline from some of the lower-level teachers encouraged the hierarchy and went hand in hand to create the “gender reform” parents seemed to want so badly for the kids they sent there.

But kids sniping at each other or punishing physical activity didn't stop the Omegas from being Omegas or the Alphas from being Alphas. In practice, the whole system just put a very specific set of physical skill sets in the hands of agitated, traumatized teenagers. He’d gone home when his dad thought he’d had enough exposure to “real men” and was ready to be “sensible about treatment" for what the old man never stopped calling "his condition" (as if he wasn't born perfectly healthy with fully functional reproductive the way the Good Lord intended). 

Until he turned eighteen, Goody had secretly bought period supplies with his allowance and spent his heat sneaking out with whatever Alpha classmate he thought would be easy enough to manage during heat or hiding in various ERs and homeless shelters instead of OCCs because in Louisiana a parent had to be notified if you were under 18. Then there was the Army, and then, well, waiting. To a certain extent his whole life has just been years of waiting.

What he says is “I like your bed,” because he likes Billy and trusts him but it’s been less than two days. Some pieces of him sam doesn’t even have. He thinks he will be able to one day though and that feels amazing, almost as good as anything they’ve done so far.

“I like you in it.” He reaches up with one hand and taps his left wrist. “Let go, Goody.”

Thrilling at the casual command, Goody uncurls his death grip on the headboard one finger at a time. Billy smiles at his easy obedience and any last knots of tension untangle themselves from his ribcage. For the first time in a long, long time Goody feels like he can take a deep breathe unencumbered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:
> 
>   * When I was growing up, there were absolutely laws in some states that make it so that girls couldn't do things like get birth control or an abortion without parental consent if she were under 18. I haven't checked the statutes in a long time but I'm fairly certain in some (southern) states, that is still the case which is just fucking repulsive. 
>   * Be the D/s you want to see in the world and the D/s I want to see has pre-arranged consent and is filthy as hell :D
>   * The title is from Take Me Home Tonight by Eddie Money
> 



	9. Feel so enamored, hold me tight within your clutch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thats all folks. *bows* I hope you liked reading it as much as I liked writing it. I love all yall and I'm sorry I was crazy during the creation process. Grad school is a weird time thats all I can say. 
> 
> This fic is for the M7 ladies of skype but always for decoy_ocelot. She knows why.

Feeding Goody is the easiest thing he’s done since meeting him, it really is. Billy can navigate a kitchen, in particular his kitchen, in the dark, underwater, during a snowstorm, with a war going on around it. Put him somewhere with food and give him fifteen minutes with a knife and maybe some salt and pepper and he can make a meal that’ll make a grown man cry. That’s what Zagat wrote about him anyway. 

It’s a little different to work in a home kitchen than a restaurant but he’s always got something, chicken with a bit of this and that that comes together over rice into the kind of strife he hasn’t made since college but that Goody inhales like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. 

That is, of course, after he stretches on Billy’s sheets, opens his fucking mouth and says “Please, Alpha” when Billy offers him the option of a spoon or chopsticks. Billy uses the spoon because his hands are shaking and he doesn’t want food in his bed but when this whole heat thing is over, he is going to get Goody to promise to never tell anyone in his family. Ever. 

He won’t now though because Goody is pliant and happy and eats literally everything Billy puts to his lips. He makes humming noises as he chews that are way, way too sexual and Billy has to swallow hard as he watches that pale pretty throat swallow around each bite.   
Some primal instinct uncurls like a large sleepy jungle predator, to feed an Omega like this, with food he made himself with his own hand. Smelling him get wet in response to the careful tending makes his muscles coil and tighten in his shoulders and neck and calves, ready to move, to fucking pounce. 

This Alpha thing is going to kill him. It really is. 

“You’re a menace.”

“Mm,” Goody agrees with a lazy grin. “Well my daddy used to say that one should always make sure they were happy with all the fine print before dismissing their lawyer, cher.”

“That so?”

Goody’s smile wavers a little. “My daddy used to say a lot of things.”

“My mom was the talker in my family,” Billy sighs. “Something to say about everything and everyone, all the time. Judgmental but not in a bad way, you know? Observational is probably a better way to put it.” He laughs, remembering the way his mother was always commenting on everyone around her. This person’s shirt. That person’s way of walking. Rarely unkind but always honest. If something was unattractive she’d say so and if something was impressive, well she’d say that too. It was critical but a straight shot and she didn’t feel the need to hold back. It had embarrassed the shit out of him as a kid and it had never endeared her to him but later, remembering that helped him look at things objectively. “Your dad was that guy?”

“Mostly what he had to say was about me.” Fuck. That statement is straight up mournful. Billy wants to spread himself over Goody like a blanket or a shield to protect him from whatever scarred over hurt his old man inflicted on him.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

Goody turns his face into the comforter and sighs. “He wanted me to be an Alpha, or at the very least a Beta. I wanted to be this.” He stretched, long and lean with his legs parted and flexed loose. “Robicheaux men aren’t Omegas and he worked to see to it that I didn’t change that family truth.” His smile is toothy and fragile. “Unfortunately for him, it didn’t work.”

“Do I want to ask?”

“You absolutely don’t but when I’m out of heat, you’re welcome too.” He hums a little, and draws up one knee and that thick, seductive smell, like a new recipe coming together on a stove just begging to be fine tuned, rolls over Billy like high tide. “You should get back inside me now.”

It’s easy to comply with that. Just being near Goody excites him but that kind of request is electrifying. 

“How-“

“I like you on top.” Goody holds open his arms. “Cover me, cher?”

“I can do that.”

“Mmm.” Goody hums, more a purr than a word. 

Billy never got the point of Omega purrs in porn but then, he’s pretty sure that shit was fake. It’s nothing compared to the real thing, a rumble coming from the chest and the back of his throat that shakes into Billy’s joints and the base of his cock making him feel like the king of the tiny domain that is this bed. He did that, pulled that contented sound out from behind the collar around that slender neck. Just him, he thinks as he glides into that wet heat, just him for Goody. 

“I thought that cat in heat shit was a metaphor.” Billy marvels, skating his hands up Goody’s sides, over his pecks and then up to rest his thumbs on the soft fabric of the collar. “But here you are, somewhere between a kitten and a queen.”

Goody laughs, a heavy rumble that mixes with the low purr. He wraps his leg tight around Billy’s lower back and pulls him tight, but not bucking or thrusting up to meet him. He reaches up to tuck wet strands of hair back behind his ears. Funny, Billy hadn’t realized he’d started sweating. 

“And people say I’ve got a way with words.”

Balls deep and panting is a weird time to finally start blushing. “I’m learning that you make me say stupid things.”

“Or eloquent.” Goody smiles up at him. “Do you think you can keep me full like this for awhile? Just… Stay here, like this?” 

Goody clenches his internal muscles squeeze tightly and Billy has to bite the inside of his cheek not to shove hard, up and back like he’s trying to plant something, lock something, build something. He isn’t sure.

“I can try.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” 

That’s another of those statements that are heavier than the words themselves. Billy doesn’t like the way it feels on his shoulders. He doesn’t know Goody that well yet but most people deserve better than “what they can get.”

“Goody.”

“I like this,” Goody soothes. “Just like this.”

“And what’s this?” Billy asks. He dips his head and nuzzles the space between the line of Goody’s hair and his collar. “Tell me so I can get this right.”

“I feel like you own me when you’re like this,” Goody muses, pushing back at his hair again. “Like the hollowness is gone because there’s no room left for anything but you.”

“This helps too?” He strokes the collar again, this time with just his left thumb. “With the hollowness?”

“Lord, yes,” Goody sighs, tightening around him again and Billy has to start the mise en place for the restaurant in his head to keep from moving. “Like dropping anchor in the middle of a storm. You Alphas wouldn’t know, the waves that crash against one and carry the senses to and fro but it’s so much easier to enjoy the ride when you know you won’t get lost at sea.”

That’s a hell of a naval allegory. “I thought you were Army.”

“I am. I am also a fan of the extended metaphor.”

“You’re also too coherent for a guy with my cock in him. I think I’m insulted.”

“Don’t be. I haven’t been this comfortable in decades.”

Billy traces his lower lip with his finger. Goody’s soft pink tongue darts out to trace the ridges of his fingerprint. 

“I like that.” He taps his chin. “You want to stay right?”

“Yeah,” Goody sighs, even more tension draining. “If you want me.”

“I didn’t plan on it,” Billy admits. “I couldn’t have expected you when I brought Emma to the OCC but I’m glad you’re here.” He replaces his finger with his mouth on Goody’s mouth. 

“I want this,” Goody hums looking hazy, like the lotus eaters. It makes Billy want to shotgun pot smoke directly into his lungs to see what a real high looks like on his pretty blue eyes. 

He drops his hand to cover the collar on Goody’s neck and Goody arches into it, the purr escalating even as his body goes limp. That is still scary but it’s good too. Goody is liquid as a standing puddle with it snug on his throat, the rumble of his purr vibrating through the material. He’s stunning but the peace and contentment radiating off him is it’s own kind of beautiful. It shouldn’t be possible, but the sight makes Billy harden even further inside that hot, wet tightness.

“Me too. I’ve only ever dated before but fuck, I really like you Goody and a relationship’s a relationship. I meant it when I said I’d try to make it work and there’s youtube tutorials for everything right?”

Goody laughs and rubs the side of his nose against Billy’s. “Takes different strokes to move us across the oceans of the world.”

“Something else your daddy used to say?”

“Nope.” He gives Billy that reckless grin that he’s starting to thing means nothing good. “I read that one in a fortune cookie.”

“Oh my god.” He groans before digging his fingers into Goody’s sides for ticklish spots. He finds them almost immediately and Goody writhes, giggling and groaning and grinding down on his building knot.

“Gonna- Goody I’m-“

“Shh, shh, shh,” He fists his hand in Billy’s hair and pulls his head back, biting at his jaw a few times as he squirms down on him. “Just do it. Want you, your knot. Fuck me, fuck me, baise-moi, ah, cher, fuck, mon cher. Donne-moi ton foutre, s'il vous plait, fuck.”

Billy laughs into his mouth as he rolls his hips. “I love fucking the English right out of your head. What’s it mean?”

“Come,” Goody gasps. “Want your come.” He’s sweating and when Billy licks his temple he tastes like salt and fading heat sweetness. “Wanna leak. Please, cher.”

“Which one is that?” He slows his roll, teasing and Goody takes it, letting Billy lead him to pleasure. “Teach me.”

“D-D-Donne-moi ton foutre.” He chokes out around a sob. He’s hard between their bellies and so lovely. Billy thinks this might be the end, that the heat may really break with this and he’s glad. He wants to meet the sane Goody, finally, the one that will show him that clear head and unfettered gaze and tongue sharper than any knife in his kitchen once the gauze of heat is pulled back. 

“And that means you want to leak alpha come?”

“No,” Goody hiccups. “No, Billy. I- Jesus, I need-”

“Tell me,” He soothes, finding the mantle of control sliding easily onto his shoulders for the first time. He likes it. It’s heady and makes him feel like he’s floating with only Goody’s legs around his calves tying him to the ground. “Tell me what it means and I’ll knot you so good you come blind.”

“It’s- it means- ah! Yeah. Fuck.” He bites his lip, turning it pink before forcing out. “Give me your come. That’s what I said. I mean it. I mean it Alpha, fuck, please. Please!” That’s a real sob. He’s crying, leaking tears even though he’s strained all over and he even laughs when they lock together.

His cheeks are noticeably cooler to the touch when Billy kisses them after they tie. That’s it, he figures. “You’re done aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Goody drawls. “That’s my heat sorted.”

That should be a relief but the fact is, it’s fucking terrifying because Goodnight Robicheaux is a full custody Omega. He’s voluntarily placed himself in Billy’s care and Billy is thrilling at the chance to find out what he can do with that care when they’re both sober and sensible. 

“So what now?”

“I think we shower and…” He shrugs as best he can with Billy weighing him down. “Whatever you want.”

Whatever Billy wants. That is a lot of trust, a regular mountain of responsibility but fuck. It’s exciting too. 

“Only if you want it too, okay?”

“Mmm.” Goody hums in agreement. “My safeword’s huckleberry.”

Billy chokes on a laugh so hard he nearly yanks free his knot free. They aren't close to ready and it's not just jarring, it's actually painful. “Are you serious?”

Goody opens one eye in a way that is the height of droll amusement yet still sincere. “Twain is classic, Billy, and I am a product of my environment.”

“I literally cannot imagine the kind of environment that could produce someone like you,” Billy admits, unable to keep the affection out of his words as he looks down at the drowsing man in his arms. Billy licks his lips and takes the plunge because he can do this. Hell, he wants to do this. “You’ll start by showing me around your stomping grounds when we pick up your stuff after the weekend.”

That dominant Alpha thing wasn’t that hard. Simple declarative statements that landed like rocks on the ground felt solid in a way that felt heavy and good in his bones. It would take practice but he liked it despite a discomfort born of a lifetime of social conditioning that said desires should be phrased as questioned and bracketed with the word "please". Billy figures dominance is like any new skill and awkwardness will fade more practice he gets way. 

Goody doesn’t open his eyes but he smiles so wide that it wrinkles his whole face. “Yes, sir. Sounds like an excellent idea to me.” 

Oh yeah, the way Goody lights up makes the imperfect fit of the moment so worth it. He can wait to adjust if it keeps garnering reactions like this. 

Rationally, a relationship based on physicality and impulse should feel more tenuous but Billy feels more secure that he’s going to land on solid ground than any other step he’s ever taken. Every passing minute makes Billy believe that it’s more possible that they really can do this. Goody thinks they can at least make a run at making this custody thing work and Billy thinks they can at least try. 

So they’re going to do this and try. That’s all any couple can do anyway. 

Billy thinks it’s going to work. He hadn't known at the beginning of this insanity he was he was an optimist, but Emma probably did. He’ll have to call her to see tell her. and see how she faired with her boy later. 

Goody opens his eyes and lifts a hand to toy with a loose strand at his temple. Billy ducks his head to ease his reach. As those long, nimble fingers slide into his hair and knead his scalp, he wishes he could purr like his Omega. 

Yeah. He's got a lot of things to talk about with a lot of people. 

Later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Latch by Disclosure ft Sam Smith because every fucking lyric is an ABO knotting play on words waiting to happen and I literally had to :D Thanks you guys. 
> 
> Thanks for taking the ride with me. There will almost certainly be drabbles and one-shots and such in this verse exploring the larger universe but for the main fic? This is it. Hope you enjoyed. 
> 
> Please feel free to come say hi to me on [tumblr](dancinbutterfly.tumblr.com) where you can chat via ask, reply or instant messenger any time. If you really liked it, please leave a comment and if you loved it? Share reblog it on tumblr to share with your friends and encourage them to comment to. Kudos are lovely but nothing on earth feeds us ficcers like a comment or a rec. 
> 
> Peace and love. Stay safe out there yall.

**Author's Note:**

> I read a few fic where the Alpha picks up an Omega from the Omega House or Omega Center or Omega Pound, whatever over the years. It's enough of a trope that I've read the idea a few times. And while I read one or two where the Omega want to be taken home, Omegas were in fact treated like slaves at best and dog/objects at worst. With "training centers" or "shelters" or whatever, you never have Omegas who want to be there and you never have any real aspect of consent.
> 
> So, I was like, "Okay, well, what if there were? What if it were mutual? What if the Alpha could come in and look but the Omega had to want to be there? Had to want to be taken?" And this happened. I have pretty concrete plans of where this is going to go. I just have to get there.
> 
> If anything about the worldbuilding isn't clear, feel free to ask. I may not answer it in the comment because I plan to answer it in an upcoming chapter but I am going to try and make sure I do the best I can with treating this ridiculous crack-addled plot bunny seriously. I really am.


End file.
